If Only
by Veralena
Summary: Hermione goes back in time to redo her seventh year at Hogwarts, desperate to enjoy it to the fullest and catch the eye of the badass Slytherin King. But what happens when her past catches up to her? RATED M FOR GRAPHIC SEX AND COARSE LANGUAGE.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Hi everyone! I'm back with my newest little story, this time with Hermione as the main character. Now bear in mind that this story takes place in Harry, Ron and Hermione's seventh year, and it does NOT follow a lot of things: a) Dumbledore is still alive. b) Snape is alive and still mean. c) Voldemort is alive and evil. d) basically all the people that died in the 6th and 7th book are alive. e) Harry and co. never had any ideas to leave Hogwarts. The characters may seem a little OOC, so brace yourselves. Anyways, I really hope you guys enjoy it, and I'll try to post as often as possible. Remember to review!!

**Summary:** If only you could go back in time, change the way your life turns out, and bag the man of your dreams along the way.

**Rating: **M for graphic sex and coarse language.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-leveled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

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**Prologue**

Pin drop silence in the library, one in the morning. The light from the candles is flickering dimly across two shadows moving in unison towards the restricted section.

"Yes...yes...harder...holy FUCK!"

Hermione gasped in ecstasy as her body collapsed on top of his. Her extremities tingled and her body jerked around as she rode out her climax. Both their bodies were covered in sweat; Hermione's chest was heaving as she took shallow breaths, grasping at his back to keep her balance. Slowly, she extracted herself from his embrace, looking into his intense eyes.

"Hermione..." he muttered, "I love you."

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Hermione jolted awake, blinking her eyes furiously; she looked up from the kitchen table and noticed where the noise was coming from. She quickly got up to take the kettle off the stove and pour herself some warm water. Smiling to herself about her daydream, she began preparing a cup of strong tea. Before long, however, the fantasy had faded, and she sat down morosely again at the kitchen table with her cup of tea, sighing.

Time goes by too fast.

In your teenage years, the craving to become older is so strong, that you barely get to enjoy those carefree moments that come and go. It's only when you're an adult that you really begin to miss those days, but by then, you're stuck with stress and...life.

As Hermione thought about her life at Hogwarts, a strange feeling crept over her. Had she enjoyed those years to the fullest? Had she had an experience to last her a lifetime? Had every aspect of her teenage years been something that she would cherish for the rest of her life?

Her answer was simple.

No.

Hermione had graduated from Hogwarts just last month. It had been very touching to see both her parents standing with their arms around each other, tears of joy and pride pouring down their cheeks. The Great Hall had been decorated to the nth degree: the long, wooden tables had vanished and had been replaced by many small round tables covered with white cloth. The magic ceiling had been transformed to show a clean, blue summer sky void of any clouds, which was not any mirage; the weather outside was indeed the ideal summer's day. The tapestries lining the walls had been smothered in gold glitter so that the candlelight reflecting off of them was dazzling. A large golden banner hung from the ceiling reading, "CONGRATULATIONS, GRADUATES" in black ink.

The seventh-years walked along the raised platform on which were the professor's tables, Minerva McGonagall handing out scrolls tied with ribbon, Hagrid clapping with his enormous hands that shook the entire table, Flitwik conducting a small group of fourth-years who were singing softly in the background, Dumbledore watching every graduate pass by with a twinkle in his eye, Snape frowning at all the Gryffindors, smirking at all the Slytherins, and remaining impassive for all the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, Trelawny gazing in awe at all the parents who had gathered in the Great Hall and probably imagining a horrific future for each one.

Hermione could remember almost every detail of that day, including the fact that she had not had a bit of fun like all the other seventh-years. Everyone had been happy and cheerful, clapping their friends on the back and laughing at jokes of the freedom that they looked forward to. Hermione spent most of her time with her parents, occasionally talking to the Weasleys and Harry who were apparently having a good time. She didn't know what was wrong with her. Her bad mood had remained with her the rest of the day, and she had refused to attend the party the Weasleys were throwing for her, Ron and Harry. Hermione remembered that she had looked out at all the graduates in the Great Hall and thought with a sigh that she had wasted the best years of her life.

Hermione, now graduated and not looking forward to a part-time job at St. Mungo's, was utterly depressed. Last week she had been informed by Ginny that she and Harry had gotten back together and were very much in love. Details of their love life had invaded Hermione through the phone, which she was using because she was currently staying with her muggle parents. Ginny had also told her that Seamus and Lavendar had gotten together, that Parvati and Dean were an item, and that Neville had suddenly found his life-long love in Luna. Ron had moved on from Hermione quite a while ago and was currently seeing a certain Bridgette Fay.

Nearly all her friends had found someone. Only Hermione remained a bachelorette, and though she was still young, it's never fun being single when everyone you know is in a relationship.

Two weeks ago, Hermione had had a sudden moment of crazyness and self-realization and had gone to the nearest salon in Diagon Alley, Netty's Salon. She had ordered poor little Netty to make her hair slick straight, to shape her eyebrows and to clear her body of unwanted hair...all permanently. Netty had warned her that she might regret it someday, but Hermione had paid her well, ordering her to use her special permanency potions. Two hours later, Hermione had emerged from the salon looking like the next SuperWitch, flicking her new hair and strutting down Diagon Alley. She had bought many new clothes and had purchased an entire kit full of makeup.

Two weeks later, and she was exactly where she was before the makeover. What was the point of looking beautiful when you had no one to share it with but your parents?

It was then that she began thinking.

Hermione – small and nerdy Hermione, that is – never had crushes on anyone, besides Ron. But once Ron made it clear in the beginning of seventh year that it wasn't going to work out between them as a couple, and that they should just stay friends, Hermione had retreated back into her book-reading, bossy ways. She found boys annoying and useless, found pretty girls prissy and stupid, and found herself lonely and miserable without something to drive her. It was then that countless hours of being Head Girl brought her closer to the Head Boy – Draco Malfoy.

Their conversations were like a verbal war. Insults were thrown at each other like bullets. But here, finally, was someone who matched Hermione on her level of intelligence and wit. It didn't help that Draco was handsome too. Soon Hermione found herself in the biggest rut of all – the crush of a lifetime on none other than Draco Malfoy.

Her crush on the king of Slytherin lasted her all of seventh year. Ever since graduation, she had not heard of him or seen him at all. Her crush remained, however, and now she believed that she had the perfect idea.

By sheer curiosity, Hermione had stumbled into Borgin & Burkes the day she had visited Diagon Alley. It wasn't like her to enter Knockturn Alley, the street devoted to the Dark Arts. But something in her had led her there, and she had entered the store. As she browsed through their eerie objects, and as the owner watched her with a piercing gaze, her ears pricked up suddenly. She heard a small ticking noise, coming from the very back of the store. Hermione began walking in the general direction of the noise when the owner stopped her.

After a bit of arguing, and a little bit of bribing, she found out that the object was a Time Turner, one of the last ones remaining ever since she and friends had crashed the stock in the Ministry. Some old, rich wizard had died and his family had donated boxes of his possessions to Borgin & Burkes, not bothering to check what remained. Borgin had been thrilled, and had kept the valuable Time Turner in a secretive place.

Hermione, with some experience of Time Turners, had immediately recognized the sound, and after a lot of negotiations and a lot of money, was now the owner of the Time Turner.

Hermione now sat in her parent's home at the kitchen table, looking glorious in her new self, holding the Time Turner in her hands. Questions appeared in her head, a slew of if-only's trailing one after the other. The consequences of her actions could be the gravest of her entire life. She would have to be careful and cautious at all times. But Hermione was positive it could work. What else did she have, anyways? A lifetime of work at St. Mungo's? She needed to do this, even if it meant being caught.

Hermione thought again of the possibilities. If only she could go back to Hogwarts and relive her final year. If only she could redo the most crucial time of her wizarding life, could take the opportunities that she had missed.

If only.

Hermione closed her eyes, breathed in a deep breath and looked at the object in her hands. Then, very slowly, she turned back time.


	2. Chapter 1

**Rated: **M for graphic sex and coarse language.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's many-leveled universes nor her many-faceted characters, although I do own the terribly naughty things I make them do.

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**Chapter 1**

The kitchen dissolved. Hermione could feel the familiar sensation of flying backwards at breakneck speeds. A tornado of blur surrounded her, and she could make out shapes of people and objects and doors and faces...Her ears were pounding from the pressure around her, and suddenly –

Fumes surrounded Hermione, and she spluttered and coughed. As the smog cleared, a concert of noises greeted her; the bustling of people chattering amongst themselves, worried parents ushering students along, animals and birds meowing, screeching, croaking, howling. Hermione blinked, and there she was...on platform nine and three-quarters.

There were Ron and Harry, talking to Mrs. Weasley. Hermione suddenly noticed a bushy-haired, nerdy Hermione stumbling along with her luggage alone.

"Oh, fuck..." she muttered.

Quickly, she crept up behind herself, brandishing her wand as she did so. As soon as she was within a few feet of her, she whispered a spell, and immediately, the burly, loner Hermione dropped unconscious.

The straight-haired, gorgeous Hermione looked around, making sure no one had noticed anything, and grabbed the unconscious Hermione by the arms and dragged her over behind a tall column. It was the oddest thing she had ever done. To see herself unconscious was unnerving. Breathing deep, Hermione raised her wand at the unconscious Hermione and muttered "Evanesco". And that was it. The old Hermione disappeared.

For the time being.

Hermione remembered clearly that today her parents had dropped her off at King's Cross and left early because they believed she could get onto the train on her own, and also because they were slightly busy. She also remembered that that morning they had spent an hour wrapped around her, exclaiming nostalgically that today was her last first day of school ever. Hermione grinned at the memory, and then made her way back to the bustling area of the platform.

"Hey, gorgeous," said a cocky voice.

Hermione turned around. The speaker was a dirty-blond, blue-eyed boy who looked to be in about sixth-year. Hermione smiled at him. He was wearing his Hogwarts uniform already, the collar flipped up and his hands in his pockets. He walked towards her until he was close to her.

"What's your name?" he asked, still grinning.

"Hermione," she said, looking down. "What's yours?"

"Paul," he said.

Hermione smiled again, but tried getting past him. He was blocking her way back to the train, and she could tell it was about to move.

"I'm going to miss the train," said Hermione. "Nice to meet you."

"Oh come on, don't leave now." Paul was very tall, and he towered over her.

A hint of worry entered her now. This guy was definitely starting to freak her out.

"Let's go have some fun, shall we?" he said, smirking at her. He grabbed her arm and was beginning to pull her over to the dark, deserted area of the platform when –

"Excuse me, I think you need to leave now," said a deep voice.

Hermione turned around and saw Mr. Weasley brandishing a stern wand in Paul's face.

"Hermione!" exclaimed Mr. Weasley, surprise covering his face. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be on the train already?"

"I...I..." she stammered, looking fearfully at Paul.

Paul immediately let go of her, looking at Mr. Weasley's wand a few times before running back towards the train.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione.

"No problem," he said, guiding Hermione back towards the steaming train. His thinning red hair was flat against his forehead, and he had a worried expression on his face. "I was just about to leave with Molly when I saw a student. That young man didn't bother you too much, did he? Are you all right?"

"Yes, I am, Mr. Weasley. Where are Ron and Harry?"

"They're already on the train. I didn't see your parents, Hermione."

"Oh, they left a little early," she said, grabbing the old Hermione's luggage from the ground where she'd left it. She would have to replace the old clothes with some newer, more fashionable ones.

"That's too bad. I was hoping I could speak to your father about some new gadgets the Ministry has found belonging to a certain muggle mechanic. It seems to be made of metal, with a claw-like protrusion on one side. We're not quite sure what it is, however..."

Just then, the train started moving. Hermione began sprinting, all the while heaving her luggage behind her.

"Run, Hermione, run!" said Mr. Weasley, who was quickly falling behind. Hermione jogged up to the nearest opening and threw her luggage onto the train, hauling herself on as well. Some students who had taken place there to wave goodbye to their parents glared angrily at Hermione as they were pushed back by her luggage.

"Have a good year!" yelled out Mr. Weasley, waving to her and with his other hand, she assumed, to Ron and Harry who were probably a few compartments down. Mrs. Weasley appeared behind her husband as well and began waving. As they grew smaller and smaller, Hermione dragged her luggage further into the train, trying to find an empty compartment. She remembered vaguely that she had sat in a far compartment with Ron and Harry somewhere. She walked along the crowded corridor.

"Move it!" yelled someone.

"Just shove the person in front of you!" called another.

"I'll shove it up yours!" came a quick reply.

Somehow, Hermione managed to get past the angry students and reached a half-open compartment door. She peeked inside.

"That's right, come on. Damn!"

"Ooh, you like it, do you?"

If someone had heard these words without seeing the speakers, they would have thought very dirty thoughts. However, as Hermione watched, her jaw dropped lower and lower.

Parvati and Lavender were standing in the tiny compartment space on a foot-high platform, wearing the shortest skirts known to man (or rather, woman) and fuck-me heels. They were dancing, back-to-back, sashaying their hips provocatively and bending down to showcase their impressive cleavages. On either side of them, sitting on the seats with their legs wide open but (thankfully!) with their pants on, were Dean and Seamus. They were staring at the two girls appreciatively and whistling from time to time.

"What the hell is going on here?" said Hermione, banging the door wide open.

Parvati and Lavender immediately stopped dancing and stood straight, glaring at Hermione. Dean and Seamus' mouths just dropped.

"Who the _fuck_ are you?" they said in unison, idiotic smiles appearing on their faces.

Though appalled that they couldn't even recognize her, Hermione suddenly remembered that she looked different and was momentarily flattered.

"I am in seventh-year, in Gryffindor House, this year's Head Girl and...Hermione Granger."

"Wha-a-a-t?" they exclaimed. There was a momentary pause and then...

"Damn...you got hot," said Seamus.

Parvati and Lavender turned their fiery gazes on the two lovestruck (or lust-struck?) boys.

"So what?" said Parvati. "Why did you have to interrupt us?"

Hermione breathed in, her chest rising, which, she realized too late, wasn't such a good idea at the moment. Seamus and Dean's eyes widened.

"Because," began Hermione, "students are not allowed to act inappropriately at any time during the school year -,"

"-which hasn't yet begun," ended Lavender. "So leave us alone."

Hermione glared at the four of them. The two boys obviously wouldn't pay attention to her words because their attention was elsewhere. And Parvati and Lavender were...well...Parvati and Lavender. She supposed her new appearance probably enraged them, so they were definitely not going to listen to her. But then again, wasn't the whole point of going back in time to enjoy her final year at Hogwarts? Why was she wasting her time on these numbskulls?

"All right," said Hermione. "I _will_ leave you alone."

And she picked up her luggage again. Just before shutting the door, however, she threw in for good measure, "Use protection!"

Trudging down the rest of the corridor, Hermione reached the last door. Everywhere else seemed full. She pulled back the compartment door slowly.

"Hello, everyone..." she began tentatively.

A sudden intake of breath indicated to her that these were her _real_ friends, as they had recognized her. There was Neville, his round, chubby face, finally not so chubby anymore. His baby fat had disappeared and had been replaced by a rather thick jaw. Nevertheless, his mouth hung wide open and his eyes were round as he stared at Hermione.

There was Luna, her ridiculously long, blond hair tumbling over one shoulder. She was wearing her signature Spectrespecs, upside down, of course. Sitting cross-legged next to Neville, her face betrayed no shock in seeing Hermione...then again, nothing much fazed her.

There was Ginny, voluminous, fiery mane framing her face. She looked almost like a woman now, her features sharper and longer. Her hazel eyes were round, just like Neville's, staring at Hermione. She, however, had the grace not to have her jaw falling to the floor.

There was Harry, his uncontrollable black hair somehow looking so stylish on his handsome face. He looked so much like his father, it was astonishing. He looked much older than his age and much more matured, which could have been the result of all his dangerous encounters with Voldemort. His mouth, too, was open, and his eyes mimicked the shape of his round glasses as he gazed at Hermione.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the face of Ron. His face held an expression that was a mixture of shock, awe, longing, confusion and regret. He also looked much older and taller, his ginger hair longer and covering his forehead. His eyes were like discs, his eyebrows had disappeared into his fringe, his ears were turning first red, then crimson, then magenta, and his mouth was so wide open that saliva was pooling on his bottom lip. This was the epitome of a Ron-esque expression.

"OhmErmyneeisatyouwhahappyoulooamazohmerlin!"

Once the words had tumbled out of Ron's mouth, there was silence in the compartment. Finally, Ginny spoke up.

"If you can understand Ron-speak, you're a genius."

Everyone laughed awkwardly.

"Hermione?" asked Ginny hesitantly. "It's you, right?"

Hermione just stood there, still shocked at everyone's expressions. Was it really that big of a change? Had she really been that ugly?

"Yes, it really is me!" she said, stepping into the compartment.

"Here, let me put up your luggage for you," said Neville, instantly getting up.

"Oh...okay. Thanks, Neville!"

Hermione stood in the middle of the compartment, staring at her friends who were staring back at her, speechless.

"What?" she asked purposely. Then she laughed lightly.

Instantly, Ron fainted with a smile on his face, collapsing on Harry sideways.

"Oh Merlin!" exclaimed Hermione. "It's not that big of a deal. Has no one ever gotten themselves beautified at a salon before?"

There was silence.

Hermione looked around disbelievingly. "Oh come on! Ginny? Luna?"

They both shook their heads.

"Well, not everyone is naturally pretty, you know!" she said, crossing her arms.

"Here, sit, Hermione," said Harry, who had recovered and had tossed the unconscious Ron away against the wall. Hermione sat down next to him.

"Well, you look very pretty, Hermione," said Luna quietly behind her magazine.

"Thank you, Luna," replied Hermione. "See?" she said to everyone else. "At least she can just give me a compliment and then forget about it! Why is it such a big deal?"

"You might want to ask Ron that when he wakes up," said Ginny, giggling.

They all laughed. The train sped on, flashing landscape after landscape, and Hermione leaned back into her seat, smiling happily to herself.

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**A/N:** don't forget to click that nice button called "review" right below... :)


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Towards noon, everyone was dozing slightly. Hermione turned to Harry.

"So," said Hermione, "how was your summer, Harry?"

He avoided her gaze. "It was all right."

She frowned. "What do you mean, all right?"

"It was good."

His eyebrows had furrowed and his lips had pressed into a hard line. Something was wrong.

"But I don't understand. Didn't you spend the summer with Ron at the Burrow?" asked Hermione.

"You should have joined us, you know," said Ginny. "You didn't have to go to Paris all summer with your parents. Could have dropped in..."

"I know...sorry," said Hermione. She continued watching Harry's face; he looked like he was thinking of something that was bothering him.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked softly.

He finally turned his head to face her and gave her a look which she read to say 'I'll tell you about it later.'

"And how was your summer, Neville?" asked Hermione, rescuing Harry from Luna and Neville's curious glances and changing the subject.

The train sped on and the sceneries changed. Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Luna and Neville talked about their summers mostly, and Hermione filled them in on what she had seen in Paris (although she didn't remember much because the real-Hermione had gone on this trip a year ago; she had to pretend it had been a week ago). The old lady with the food trolley stopped by their compartment, which Ron unfortunately missed because he was still unconscious. They decided to leave him like this until the time came to put on their uniforms. As it grew steadily darker and darker outside, the lights on the train came on. Harry shook Ron awake.

"Whuzarack..." mumbled Ron as he woke up, yawning. As soon as his eyes fell on Hermione again, his eyes widened.

"Oh, not again!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Hermione..." croaked Ron. "I'm so sorry!"

She stared at him, confused. "Sorry for what?"

"For everything!" he burst out. "Anything I've ever done to you that was bad or that you didn't like, or anything that I said that hurt you. I'm sorry!"

Everyone in the compartment stared at Ron.

"Oh-kay...Ronald," said Ginny, her eyebrows cocked as she stared at her brother, "I don't think you're in your right mind right now. I think you're Hermione-drunk."

"I'm fine!" he said forcefully.

"It's ok, Ron," said Hermione, before Ginny could embarrass Ron any further. "You don't have to apologize."

"Sorry to break up the emotional zoo here, but we probably have to change into our uniforms," said Harry, standing up.

"Wow, Harry, I didn't know you kept track of these things..." said Ginny, standing up as well.

He looked at her and smiled. "Actually, I do."

They all changed in silence. The train halted to a slow stop and suddenly the sound of thousands of hungry and impatient students could be heard in the corridors of the train. As Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville stepped out of the train, they were lost in a sea of students bustling around, trying to find their friends. The crowds were milling about, and somewhere in the dark night, they heard the ever-familiar booming of Hagrid's voice saying "All righ', firs' years come o'er here!"

He waved to Harry, Ron and Hermione as he noticed their faces. They waved back and proceeded to get a thestral-drawn carriage.

"I'm starving," said Ron once the three were seated inside the carriage. "How long do you reckon until I pass out from starvation?"

"But you're always starving!" said Hermione.

"Hey! Back off! I didn't have lunch, remember? You two didn't wake me up!"

Harry laughed. "Sorry, mate."

The carriages set off at a lurch. As they moved on through the dark night, Hermione looked out through the small window set in the door of the carriage. The night seemed magical. It had probably rained earlier in the day, causing the stones and the path leading up to the castle to be wet and shiny black. An infinite number of stars stretched out vastly across the midnight blue sky, stars that would never have been seen in the heart of London. The lights from Hogwarts castle glittered in the darkness, lighting the lake beneath it. In the distance, mellow, nocturnal sounds could be heard. The night was balmy and warm and made Hermione feel giddy.

Finally they reached the massive doors and walked inside. The ceiling was high and vaulted, and everything sparkled. The massive staircase leading up to the left was grandiose, and the huge archway to the Great Hall was colossal. Inside, they could see the four long tables for the four houses and the raised table at the front for the professors. Hundreds of candles floated here and there, illuminating the room, and the enchanted ceiling portrayed stars, planets and a bit of the Milky Way. The students milled around in the front for a little while, as the crowd to get into the Great Hall was massive. As they took in the familiar surroundings, Hermione remembered this moment the way it had really happened...

_A shoulder bumped into hers roughly, causing her to lose her balance for a moment. Sputtering, she straightened to see a platinum blond head turning around and staring at her as if he hadn't deliberately bumped into her._

_"Oh, sorry mudblood, didn't notice you there. I suppose you sort of blend in with the mud surrounding you..."_

_His arrogant voice annoyed her to bits. Pushing back her frizzy hair, made even frizzier from the humidity in the air that night, she placed her hands on her hips._

_"At least my voice doesn't sound like a ferret squeak," retorted Hermione._

_He laughed, throwing his head back. "Ooh...I've been snapped!"_

_"Oh, shut up."_

_"See you around, mudblood," he said, turning away, still smirking. "Don't get lost in that bush around your head."_

_ "Don't you call me mudblood!" she hissed. But he'd already walked away with Crabbe and Goyle in tow. Hermione stood there for a while, still seething with anger, and then stalked off to find Harry and Ron._

Hermione sighed. Looking around, she spotted Harry and Ron a little away talking to Ginny and Neville. She was about to go to them when someone bumped into her.

"Get out of my fucking wa-," Draco stopped mid-sentence, mouth slightly open.

Hermione inhaled. There he was, looking older and handsomer than before. His pale hair covered his high forehead, beneath which his silver eyes smouldered. His long, sharp nose and chin were chiselled, as if of ice, and his thin, pink lips looked inviting. Hermione couldn't believe that she'd fallen for this guy, a Slytherin of all people, and someone who hated her guts. Then again, he didn't yet know who she was. So she might as well take advantage of it.

Meanwhile, Draco had regained his ability of speech.

"I mean...excuse me," he mumbled. Then, taking on a more suave voice, he angled his body towards her. "I didn't see you there...although I don't know how I didn't notice _you_..."

"Oh, that's okay," said Hermione quietly, smiling at him. In her head she was laughing hysterically, amazed at how differently Malfoy was acting. Harry and Ron should have watched this. It was the best form of entertainment!

"What's your name?" asked Draco, taking a step towards her. His lips were turned upward, his hands in his pockets. Hermione had never seen him like this. It was fascinating.

"Evelyn," she said. The name had come from a character in a book that she had read over the summer. She refrained from mentioning any last names because then it would have been easy to figure out that Evelyn did not exist. "And...you are?"

"Draco. Draco Malfoy. Head Boy and therefore King of Slytherin," he said, smirking at her. Hermione almost laughed. He was so cocky!

"Oh really? That's very impressive..." she trailed off. She had been about to say that she had been made Head Girl, but then she remembered that he would have obviously found out Hermione Granger had been made Head Girl.

"You think so?" he said, coming even closer to her. She could now feel his breath upon her, and feel the warmth coming from him. He grinned. "I have many other things that you may find impressive..."

Hermione almost rolled her eyes. However, she _was_ enjoying herself. It felt oddly exciting to have so much attention from a guy who would have normally insulted her a few times before leaving. Just then, she noticed Ginny coming towards her.

"I've got to go..." said Hermione, moving away. "Friends are calling."

"All right," said Draco reluctantly. "See you around, Evelyn."

Hermione noted that he'd remembered her name, which was surprising, before moving quickly away from him. She made sure she was lost in the crowd and away from Draco's field of view before grabbing Ginny's arm and dragging her to Harry and Ron.

"Hey! No need to manhandle here!" protested Ginny.

"Sorry," said Hermione. Harry and Ron were looking confusedly at the two of them.

"Were you molesting Ginny again, Hermione?" asked Harry in a mock serious tone.

"She was..." said Ginny, looking downcast but unable to hide the grin creeping up her face.

"Looks like we're going to have to teach her a lesson," said Ron heavily.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut it."

The feast began as usual with Dumbledore's welcoming speech. There was a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year, Professor Higgins. He was a portly man with a tiny face and large, comic eyes. He had chosen to wear bright red robes tonight, sweeping over his fat belly. He was so short compared to Dumbledore, and he looked like a midget next to Hagrid. Flitwick seemed happier to have someone with whom he could have conversations eye-to-eye, or rather, chin-to-eye. After a smattering of applause, Dumbledore beckoned the students to dig in to their supper.

"It's about time," exclaimed Ron, diving headfirst into his soup. Then, he grabbed a chicken leg in each hand and began eating them, cannibal-style. Hermione and Ginny watched him, momentarily stunned, before digging into their own plates.

After dinner, they were fully fed, watered, and restful, and they made their way up to their Common Rooms. Hermione felt at ease to be back to this familiar and comforting place, although this time, in a new way. She remembered that tomorrow, McGonagall would call her and Draco down to her office to explain the Head Boy and Girl duties. She also remembered one very crucial detail that would change her last year at Hogwarts (the second time) a very memorable experience.

Before ascending the stairs to the Girl's Dorm, she remembered that Harry had been about to tell her something on the train. She hurriedly glanced over at the Gryffindors still mulling around the Common Room, and spotted Harry's messy head over by the fireplace.

"Hey, you," said Harry, once he noticed her coming his way. Ron was sitting on the couch opposite Harry, but he was sunk well into the cushions, signalling that he had dozed off.

"Hey yourself," she answered, sitting next to him. Hermione soaked in the heat from the fireplace for a moment, revelling in the familiar softness of the Gryffindor couch and closing her eyes. She breathed in deeply before turning to Harry, who was also watching the fire.

"So, what exactly happened this summer?" she asked. Harry winced, and Hermione wondered if it had been troubling nightmares, or worse, a visit from Dementors.

"Well," started Harry, "it wasn't Voldemort."

Hermione almost laughed. "Well, that's a relief!"

Harry didn't smile.

"I'm sorry," she said, "tell me what's wrong."

"I...er...as you know, Ginny and I were going out last year," said Harry, looking highly uncomfortable.

Hermione's heart lightened considerably. It was good news that it wasn't anything about Voldemort or Dementors, or anything dark and dreary.

"Yes, I am aware..." she said, smiling at the formality with which they were talking.

"And also that Ginny and I...er...broke up at the end of last year," he continued, adjusting himself on the couch so he was facing Hermione a bit more.

"Yes..."

Harry seemed to be fighting with himself. Then suddenly –

"Oh, fuck it." He looked her right in the eye. "Hermione, I need your help getting Ginny back."

It was not the right thing to do, but Hermione couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing, so loudly that people still in the Common Room were glaring at her. Snorting and giggling, she almost had tears in her eyes, and failed to see Harry's expression. His face was grim but once she had sobered up a little, she noticed that his mouth was wrestling into a grin.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, her voice high and lofty. "I really am! It's just too...hahahahaha..."

"You know, this _really_ isn't funny," he said, his face serious but his eyes glittering from amusement. "I really do like her, but I fucked up and now she's not mine anymore. And I need your help getting her back."

Hermione placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, I love you, but you have _got_ to do this on your own!"

He looked up desperately at the ceiling. "I know!" he cried out. "But I can't. Please help me! You're a girl, you know these kind of things! What will make her want me again?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Harry...I'm sure she still wants you. She just doesn't want to admit it because she's a strong girl, and strong girls don't want to admit they like someone even after they've been dumped."

"See?" Harry exclaimed. "You _are_ good at this! So you're helping me then?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, all right."

Harry beamed.

"But I'm warning you right now," she said, her eyes round and serious. "I'm not doing any dirty work like following her around the school. She's my friend, and I just can't go all Bond on her."

After another hour of sitting near the fire with Harry and a sleeping Ron, Hermione climbed up the staircase to the Girl's Dorm and promptly fell asleep, exhausted from the long day. She wondered in the back of her mind how her new life at Hogwarts was going. So far her new persona had given her good results. She had astounded everyone with her looks, even Draco.

Ah...Draco. She was excited for tomorrow and the sweet surprise she would deliver to him when they spoke to McGonagall.

With this happy thought, she drifted off to sleep, but not before faintly wondering where she had vanished the real Hermione to.

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**A/N:** please remember to review!!!


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Hermione awoke the next morning to girlish voices chattering away in the beds next to her. Sitting up, she pulled back the draping red velvet curtains and saw Parvati and Lavendar talking animatedly to each other.

"...and he was like 'Ohmigod, I can't do this' and I was like 'Ohmigod, you so totally can' and then, like, I was totally, like, shocked, you know? 'Cause, that's, like, _so_ not fair!"

"Good morning!" said Hermione, stretching and scratching her eyes. The chattering immediately stopped. Two pairs of prettily made-up eyes looked back at her.

"Hi, Hermione," said Parvati disinterestedly. Suddenly she seemed to remember something. Her tone changed to an icy one. "And thanks for interrupting us yesterday."

Hermione groaned. They were still on about this?

"Yeah, great timing, Hermione," said Lavendar, drawing out the vowels on Hermione's name. She was twirling her hair in one finger and her eyes were reproachfully rounded.

"Thanks!" said Hermione cheerfully. Getting up from the bed, she quickly put on her uniform and grabbed her books. Stepping lightly towards the door, she turned to look at the two girls on their beds. "I _won't_ be missing you two!"

She closed the door. Hermione adjusted her books in her arms and inhaled proudly. _I think I handled that well_, she thought. Out of sheer curiosity, she leaned her head in close to the door and listened intently.

"...like, ohmigod! She was sooo out of line."

"Yeah, like what does that mean? Oh, what_ever_!"

"Yeah, whatever..."

Grinning happily to herself, Hermione made her way downstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Morning!" she said to Harry and Ron, who were looking groggy and were pecking at their scrambled eggs. Pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice, she grabbed Ron's _Daily Prophet_. Then, thinking it over, she put it back. The new Hermione couldn't be bothered with the news. She would just...enjoy the morning.

When none of them had said anything for five minutes, she stared at the two of them.

"Did you two sleep well?" she asked.

They both nodded.

"So what's with the grumpy faces?"

Ron groaned. Harry shot him a look of disgust before looking at Hermione.

"He overheard us talking about Ginny last night," he said. "And now he's all weirded out."

"Oh come on, Ron!" said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "They went out for months last year! Don't tell me you still haven't gotten used to it!"

Ron finally glared at Hermione. "Yeah, but I won't have you two talking about her, especially when I'm around!"

"Ugh!" burst out Hermione. "You're absolutely impossible, you know that Ronald Weasley?"

"Oh, go eat your cereal, would you?" he muttered, looking down at his eggs again. Harry yawned. The Great Hall was abuzz with students walking around to the other tables on their first morning back, talking to students in other houses and mingling with friends.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger?" said a tiny voice. Hermione turned to see a small first-year looking up at her inquisitively.

"Yes?"

"I have a message from Professor McGonagall calling you to her office in five minutes."

"Thank you," said Hermione, watching as the student ran back to his seat at the front of the Gryffindor table. Ron had been right. They really did seem to get smaller and smaller every year.

Barely able to contain her excitement, Hermione left the quiet Ron and Harry at the table and made her way to the second floor where Professor McGonagall's office was. She knocked on the door twice, fixing her hair before the door was opened by a thin-lipped McGonagall.

"Come in, Miss Granger, come in..."

Hermione walked inside. She had only been here twice, once in her Third Year for the Time Turners, and once in her Fourth Year for the second task during the Triwizard Tournament. Dark wood paneling covered the walls, and there was rich red carpet on the floors, giving the entire office a cozy feeling. McGonagall went and sat behind her desk.

"Sit, Miss Granger."

She sat.

"We are simply waiting for Mr. Malfoy to arrive, Miss Granger. I believe he is taking his time at breakfast."

Hermione just nodded. She couldn't speak.

Suddenly, the door opened and he was there, looking deliciously casual. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets, and his shirt was peeking out from his sweater vest. His slightly longish hair just barely touched his turned up shirt collar; his eyes sparkled in all their silvery greatness. Hermione stole the quickest glance at him before turning her head back towards McGonagall, so as to not reveal her face.

"Please spend some of your precious money on a good, practical watch, Mr. Malfoy," said McGonagall sternly.

"Yes, professor."

"Take a seat, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco sprawled into the chair next to Hermione's. He hadn't yet looked at her, probably because he didn't see the need. He had already noticed that her skirt hadn't been rolled up to make it shorter like all the other hot girls. _This girl was probably a boring one, _he thought._  
_

"As you are well aware, the two of you have been selected to be this year's Head Boy and Girl. We have given you one day of relaxation before your duties begin. From tomorrow, the two of you will be overseeing the general management of things, assuring that students do not act inappropriately, making sure they do not get lost, taking great care of all the first years, and helping some of the staff with their many duties. You both have a lot to do, as well as staying on top of your studies."

"Wait...who's Head girl?" asked Draco, before turning to face Hermione. When he saw her face, he did a double take. Surprise and delight showed on his face.

"Evelyn! You got made Head Girl!" he said. McGonagall looked confusedly between them.

"Evelyn?" asked McGonagall. "Who is Evelyn?"

Hermione breathed in deeply, unsure of what to think anymore.

"Mr. Malfoy, you are speaking to Miss Hermione Granger."

She wasn't sure how many times she thought about the expression on Draco's face afterwards. It was the most shocking thing. He almost looked struck by lightning; his face was like Ron's on the train. His mouth opened and closed, unable to speak. Finally, he blinked a few times.

"Oh...er..." he spluttered. Hermione was sure he would die soon enough. She couldn't imagine what was going on in his head, but she wished desperately she had mastered the skill of Occlumency so that she could read his mind at this very moment.

"Moving on..." continued McGonagall, ignoring the fact that a major crisis was going on under her nose. "Now, Professor Dumbledore understands that this may be quite a lot for some students to handle. So, he has made sure that you get the proper settings to study and do your work. The two of you will not be staying in your dormitories this year, but in a specially designed Head Boy and Head Girl room. If you two could please follow me, I shall show you to your new quarters."

Hermione tried to act surprised and indignant, but she was rejoicing inside. She had already known about the adjoining rooms because she'd gone through the experience "last year". However, the old Hermione had avoided Draco at all costs, even though she had developed a huge crush on him. Terrified of showing her feelings, she had hid in her tiny room all year, leaving only for classes and meals. She had steered clear of the connecting common room for fear of bumping into a delicious-looking Draco.

This time...it would be different.

They walked all the way down the corridor, up what seemed like ten flights of stairs, before reaching the winding staircase up to the south tower.

"But," protested Draco, "it's like we're cut off from the rest of the castle up here!"

"If you have such a problem, Mr. Malfoy, I can give you a free cot in the dungeons," said McGonagall severely.

"Bitch," mumbled Draco under his breath. Hermione tried not to laugh. She was very conscious of the fact that he was walking right behind her, so she straightened her back and tried swaying her hips as she followed McGonagall.

"Here we are," said McGonagall, stopping in front of a huge portrait of a young woman. She was standing in the middle of a forest clearing, with buttery sunshine pouring out the spaces in the trees arching high above her, holding an extravagant bouquet of flowers in her hands. She was wearing a dress of dark green leaves grouped strategically on her body and her hair was up in a cluster of chestnut curls. Something about her serene face was mysterious and innocent at the same time.

"Password?" she asked, when she had noticed her audience.

"_Corpus Prolecto_", said McGonagall impassively, pushing on the portrait to reveal the entrance. Hermione, having already seen this place, tried to act shocked and amazed. She was having a hard time trying to conceal her excitement.

The common room that Hermione and Draco would share was magnificent. Perhaps to unify the two house colors, the circular room was decorated with both crimson and green. Where the velvety carpet was emerald, the walls were a very dark red wood paneling. The ceiling was hung with drapes of both ruby and jade, and bookcases lined the walls. In the center of the room was a gigantic fireplace emanating heat and light, and faded, comfy-looking sofas in front of it. There were no staircases leading up to their separate rooms, just two wooden doors on opposite sides of the common room. The door on the left was painted red and the one on the right painted green. The entire room was so color coordinated that it felt like a very dark Christmas, almost with a Victorian feel.

"Well," said McGonagall, "here are your rooms. I'll let the two of you get settled." She gave the two of them a stern glance. "I do hope your enmity doesn't cause you to rip each other's throats out. I expect to see you both tomorrow morning in the Great Hall with _no damage whatsoever_."

As soon as the portrait had closed behind Professor McGonagall, Draco turned to Hermione.

"Mudblood? Is that seriously you?" he asked, looking wondrous but still maintaining a bit of his arrogance.

"Yes, it is," replied Hermione, turning to him and crossing her arms defensively across her chest. She noticed him look down at her arms just below her chest and smiled triumphantly. There was no way he could play the bad guy for any longer. "And don't you dare call me mudblood ever again."

"Oh really?" sneered Draco. Even though he was annoying and offending her, there was a slight teasing air about him that made his voice seem more enticing than rude. He walked right up to her until they were face to face. "And what exactly are you going to do about it?" he whispered.

Hermione was taken by surprise. It had not even been a minute since McGonagall had left, and already Malfoy was testing his powers on her. No, if she had to reel him in, she should probably go more slowly to get the desired impact.

"Shut the hell up, you prick," she spat, pushing him away. "Go find some whore to fuck."

Huffing, she stomped off to the left room and banged the door shut behind her, not even sparing Draco a second glance. Leaning against the door, she breathed in heavily, amazed at her new confidence. Had she still been the old Hermione, she would have never spoken those words, especially to a person she both loathed and wanted. She didn't know she had it in her.

Once she had regained her breath, she looked around her room. It was decorated a lot more in Gryffindor colors than Slytherin, which she was grateful for. Her luxuriously large bed was covered in garnet silk, with tall, carved bedposts that held lavish drapes hanging down. A mahogany dresser was in the corner, and a small door led to a shiny, cream marble bathroom with a large bathtub and shower.

Hermione went back to the main part of her bedroom and jumped on her comfy bed, closing her eyes and simply enjoying the familiarity of it all. She hadn't been able to relish this room that she had been so privileged to have last year because she had been so preoccupied with her horrible, unlucky life. Now that things were looking a lot better (and, oh yes, they were), she could properly take pleasure in this magnificent space that was hers...all hers.

And Draco's.

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**A/N:** thanks to all those who reviewed! please remember that it really gives me inspiration to keep writing, so review review review!!


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait!! I'd just like to thank all the people who reviewed in the past couple of chapters. It really means a lot that you guys take the time to help me with my writing and give me inspiration to keep going. Anyways, on a different note, I've had an idea for a new story involving yet another love triangle (Ginny x Draco x Harry) but mostly Ginny & Draco. This one will actually have an action-filled plot, and since I've never written action before, I thought it'd be fun. The characters, especially Ginny and Harry, will be very OOC, but it will fit with the certain atmosphere I'm trying to create (business-like). What do you guys think? Should I go for it?

let me know, and keep reviewing!!

_**~starlite rose**_

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Chapter 4**

"Ungh...oh...fuck...ungh...yes!"

Hermione yawned, scratching her eyes as she woke up. It was dark outside her window, and the large grandfather clock in the corner of her room indicated that it was around three in the morning. Frowning, she got up from her bed and strolled over to the door. If Draco wanted to entertain guests at such times, he was going to have to do it quietly.

Walking over to Draco's door, Hermione paused. She considered knocking, but thought better of it before banging the door open.

"Ah!" yelped a girl's voice.

Draco was lying on his green silk sheets, his hands on the waist of a big-breasted blonde who was splayed across Draco's crotch. As soon as the door had opened, the girl got up and scurried towards the door, grabbing her clothes and running out of the room as quickly as possible. Hermione put her hands on her hips as Draco covered himself with his sheets, but only up to his waist so that his heavenly chest was still visible.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" shouted Hermione, trying not to look at his chiseled abs. "Do you realize that some people are trying to sleep at night?"

He leaned back on his arms, resting his head on them casually. "No."

"You don't own this place, you know," said Hermione angrily, remaining at the door even though she longed to touch that carved chest. "You share it with somebody else."

"Whatever, Granger," said Draco, yawning as if the conversation bored him. He looked in her opposite direction. "I don't have time to listen to your complaints. Besides, you cost me my night of fun, so you'd better make up for it."

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she saw him turn back to her and smirk evilly. His eyes shone naughtily, teasing her, making her determination to remain at the door falter.

"There's no chance of it, so stop hoping," she hissed.

"Why the hell are you so mad, anyway?" said Draco, cocking an eyebrow. "You're the one who told me to go find a whore to fuck."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, but not so loud that I can't go to sleep. I don't need a commentary to go along with your nightly doings."

Draco sat up a little straighter on his bed, stretching out his arms as he did so. "Face it, Granger, you can't resist me. Why else would you change your name to Evelyn? You didn't want me to know you were you."

Hermione reddened. She couldn't believe he'd brought this subject up. She turned her head to the side in an attempt to cover her face with her hair, but she was pretty sure he saw her blush.

"Why the hell would I care?" she said, slowly losing steam.

"Oh please, Granger," said Draco, throwing his head back in exhaustion, "don't act as if you don't care. We both know that you do."

Her insides were tumultuous. Anger and need fought each other as she watched Draco look her over from head to toe. She was wearing an overlarge t-shirt that went as far as the tops of her thighs, revealing her long, shapely legs. Of course, she didn't sleep with a bra, which she now realized was a mistake as she saw his eyes lingering on her hardening nipples. Blushing, she crossed her arms in an attempt to remove his stare and glared haughtily back at him. He smirked and looked away.

"Go to sleep, Granger. I've had enough of you for one night."

Huffing, she turned around to leave. Just before shutting his door, she heard his voice. "And don't disturb me again...unless you want to parade around that nice ass of yours in here."

*

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A couple of hours later, Hermione woke up to, thankfully, no dirty sounds. It took her a few seconds to get accustomed to her new surroundings and realize where she was before she got up from bed and washed her face with cool water from her bathroom. As she pulled on her shirt, vest and skirt, she thought about last night and her conversation with Draco. Okay, so he liked her new body. That shouldn't surprise Hermione too much, right? In fact, she knew that if she wanted to, she could screw Draco that very night. But that wasn't her. And that definitely wasn't how she expected to get Draco. As she pulled up her stockings, she thought how to go about her plan. Looking at herself in the mirror, she rolled up her skirt to make it shorter, just for good measure. Once satisfied, she made her way downstairs to the Great Hall.

"Hey," greeted Harry, once Hermione had found a seat near him, Ron and Ginny at the Gryffindor table. "Where did you disappear to yesterday? You were gone all day."

"Oh, you know...just unpacking stuff in my room," replied Hermione, trying not to mention the adjoining common room with Draco. Merlin, that would cause a ruckus with Ron and Harry.

"We were looking for you," said Ron, looking up at her from his cherry pie. He had one of his elbows on the table and was resting his head on his hand, looking reproachfully at Hermione. Ginny was immersed in the _Daily Prophet_, sitting quietly beside Harry. Catching his eye, Hermione cleared her throat.

"You know, Harry," started Hermione, "I heard that Professor McGonagall was planning _three_ Hogsmeade trips this year."

Harry coughed, stole a glance at Ginny, and then spoke. "Oh...is that so?"

"Yes," replied Hermione, also stealing glances at Ginny to make sure she was listening. "She was telling me during our first Head Boy and Head Girl meeting that the first one will be in November."

"Oi, isn't Malfoy Head Boy?" interrupted Ron. Harry and Hermione instantly deflated, their fake conversation about Hogsmeade going down the drain.

"Yes," answered Hermione, sighing heavily.

"And aren't you Head Girl?" persisted Ron.

Hermione began to feel suspicious. "Yes..."

Ron frowned. "So if you're not staying in the Girl's Dorm, then Malfoy's not staying in his dorm either."

Hermione began feeling very hot suddenly, and started uncomfortably shifting in her seat. "Right..."

Ron seemed to be piecing together a very obvious conclusion but was having a hard time articulating his thoughts. "So then that means that you guys have separate rooms."

Hermione couldn't do anything. She chanced a glance at Harry and saw that he was a bit lost with where this was going.

"Right?" asked Ron, starting to tremble. He was slowly turning red, which was definitely not a good sign, and his eyebrows were furrowing deeper and deeper.

"Right?!?" he almost yelled when Hermione didn't answer.

"Well..." mumbled Hermione quietly, "you see, Ron...Malfoy and I have...adjoining...rooms..."

"WhaaAATT?!?" yelled Ron. All the students in the Great Hall turned around to look at him, and Hermione almost shrank in her seat from everyone's stares.

"Relax, mate," said Harry, putting a hand on his shoulder to calm him, but obviously Ron wasn't in a relaxing mood.

"YOU MEAN TO SAY THAT YOU AND THAT FUCKING PRICK ARE GOING TO LIVE IN THE SAME ROOM ALL. FUCKING. YEAR?"

Hermione cringed. She looked over at the Slytherin table and saw Draco staring at Ron as well. He and his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering as they watched Ron explode like one of his mother's Howlers.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" he roared.

"Okay, Ron, that's enough," said Harry, dragging Ron outside the Great Hall.

"Let go of me!" struggled Ron, as he pushed against Harry and glared down at Hermione who was cowering in her seat. Harry was slightly stronger, and heaved Ron's resisting body towards the main entrance.

"WHERE IS THAT LITTLE SHIT, ANYWAY?" bellowed Ron, looking around fanatically for Draco. "I'm gonna KILL him!"

"Come, on Ron..." said Harry, determinedly directing Ron away from everyone's stares. Many people were now beginning to snicker at him.

Finally they reached the end of the hall, and Ron's shouts died away. Hermione remained very still and quiet until all the other students turned back to their food. They were all buzzing with Ron's little act and she could still feel many stares on her back. Hermione looked at Ginny.

"Save me from your brother!" she implored.

Ginny laughed loudly, setting down her paper. Eventually Hermione started smiling too, and then they were both laughing their heads off. After their chortles had subsided, Ginny handed Hermione a letter.

"Here," she said, "this came in for you with your owl. It nearly pecked me to death until I convinced him I'd give it to you personally," she added as Hermione thanked Ginny and opened the letter.

_Dear __Hermunchkin,_

_ How are you, darling? How's your first week at Hogwarts going? Your father and I were feeling a bit sentimental this morning and began missing our daughter so much that we had to write this letter together. _

_ What classes do you have? Are they hard or easy? We're sure you're doing absolutely perfect so far. How are your duties as Head Girl going? We can't even begin to talk about how proud we are that you were made Head Girl. A 'muggle-born' (is it?), and a Head Girl at Hogwarts! It's a very prestigious title, darling. We hope you are as proud as we are. _

_ Write back when you can. We're sure you're very busy with your schoolwork. We're both fine._

_ Love,_

_ Mum and Dad. _

Hermione smiled. She missed her parents dearly as well. She grinned at many parts in the letter, such as her classes and schoolwork. So far, she hadn't been to a single class. Her first one would be this morning. She wondered what her parents would think if she told them that she was sharing a room with a boy this year. Her mother would probably gasp in shock and begin listing a set of rules she was to obey and what to be careful of when in close proximity to "the boy". Her father would probably send a letter to Dumbledore complaining of inappropriate living arrangements and demand a separate room for his daughter. Hermione smiled and thanked the stars she was lucky enough to have parents who were protective and cared about her. It broke her heart whenever she thought of how alone Harry must feel to have no one to care for him.

Sighing, Hermione put the letter away and finished off her slice of pumpkin pie. She'd brought her book bag downstairs with her so she wouldn't have to go back up to her room; the trip itself was a daunting exercise. Her first class was to be Transfiguration, which many students had decided not to take in their final year because of the difficulty. Unfortunately, it was a necessary course for most well-paid jobs in the wizarding world, though Hermione didn't have to worry about that.

When she arrived in the Transfiguration classroom, there were only about twenty people in the classroom, mostly Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. She noticed Harry and Ron in the back left corner seated in desks side by side. They seemed to be quietly arguing, and she stiffened as she approached them. Avoiding Ron's gaze, she went and sat down in the desk in front of Harry.

"Hello, Hermione," said Harry. She turned around to face him, completely ignoring Ron.

"Hello, Harry," she replied. She breathed in deep through her nose.

"I, uh, think that Ron would like to tell you something," said Harry, glancing furtively at Ron. Ron remained determinedly facing the front, his face grim.

"I don't have any bloody thing to say," he mumbled.

Hermione's cheeks flamed red with anger. What was his problem? Why was he angry at her? It wasn't like she'd decided the sleeping arrangements.

"Well, it's not like I want to hear what you have to say anyways," she hissed at Ron. He narrowed his eyes, face quivering, and gave her a deadly look.

"Gonna enjoy the year, Hermione?" spat Ron. "Enjoy sleeping with that fucking snake?"

"MR. WEASLEY!"

Hermione, Harry and Ron quickly turned around, inhaling sharply as they saw Professor McGonagall's eyes widen in shock.

"How dare you use such foul language!" she exclaimed to Ron. He shrank in his seat when she approached him.

"Detention in my office, Mr. Weasley! Tonight at eight o'clock sharp!"

Ron groaned as McGonagall turned around to return to the front of the class. Hermione smirked. _Serves him right_, she thought.

Although, she pondered afterwards, it wouldn't be so bad sleeping with the snake.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Watched Half-Blood Prince last night!!! It was amazing...definitely my favorite in the entire series. I loved how Tom Felton got so much screen time, even though he was just looking tormented all the time. The focus on romance was a good breather from all the action we usually get in HP movies. Now I can't wait for the next 2 movies to come out!!

Sorry for the wait! I've been really busy lately. Enjoy!

**_~starlite rose_**

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**Chapter 5**

Transfiguration went by slowly. Since it was just the first day of lessons for the seventh years, Professor McGonagall had them all copy down review notes from the board. It was the same in all their classes. No major spell work was done today. By the second last period of the day, Hermione's hand was cramped from all the notes she had written. As she headed to her last class, Potions, Ron stomped by her, banging into her shoulder as she went. Scoffing angrily, she proceeded to the dungeons, massaging her now sore shoulder.

She heard someone laugh the moment she walked in the classroom, and it was definitely not Ron's voice. Turning around, she saw Draco and Blaise looking over at her from across the room. She assumed that Draco had told Blaise about the incident last night, and they seemed to be having quite a laugh about it. Half smiling, half frowning, she went over to the cauldron on Harry's right; Ron was on Harry's left.

The door banged shut, the curtains fell; the room was enrobed in darkness but for the dim lights coming from the floating candles in all four corners of the room. Snape, black robes billowing, greasy hair flying, crooked nose sniffing in disdain, walked into his classroom.

"I suspect the very notion of learning anything worthwhile has left the large, spacious and very empty confines of your brains," he called out to the class. Then, turning sharply, he gave his few students piercing glares as he continued his little speech. "I believe that two long, unnecessary months of freedom have brought nothing but a void into which all your past learned knowledge has slowly trickled away into, leaving behind an army of mindless corpses without any sense of the world. Alas, I have been given the most undesirable task of refreshing your dull brains and teaching, yet again, the powerful art of potions."

Had the class been in first year, they would have perhaps screamed in terror, or run away, such was the horrible face Snape put on. But, being experienced seventh-years, the class simply looked back at him; granted, with frowns on their faces.

Snape paused and looked all his students in the eye. Then, briskly, he went around his desk and took his seat, seemingly bored with his unenthusiastic class.

"Open your textbooks to page thirty-three. Begin your Dereservation Potions. Do not waste the kinbella stems! They are worth more than all your dim brains combined. You have all class, after which you shall test it on yourself. You shall suffer the consequences of your own horrible potion brewing. Begin."

The class shuffled. Chairs scraped as students reached the cupboards and retrieved their ingredients. Hermione, first memorizing every item she required, proceeded to the cupboards. As she passed students, she heard Ron complain to Harry.

"Leave it to Snape to set us a tough potion on the first day of lessons..."

Hermione returned to her cauldron with all the ingredients and began cutting them according to the instructions in the textbook. Technically, she had done this potion last year, and she distinctly remembered struggling over the potion until it was just right. Snape had barely given her a second glance when she had claimed her success. Since she'd done it before, this potion would be a piece of pumpkin pie.

Looking up, she saw Draco whispering to Blaise about something. She was about to look away when she noticed Blaise staring at her while Draco whispered to him, and she immediately knew what their subject was.

* * *

"Oh, fuck, she caught me looking at her," said Blaise, grinning at Draco.

"Who cares?" said Draco, pretending to flip through his roughed up textbook. "You should have seen the look on her face when she walked in yesterday."

"Who were you...?"

"I think her name was Deirdre. Or was it Gabriella?"

Blaise smirked at Draco. They had both become masters of the famous smirk, although Draco's was still considered his trademark.

"Was she any good?"

"Oh, fuck yeah," replied Draco. "Her ass was...well it was nothing compared to her tits. But of course, damn Granger had to walk in..."

"You know," said Blaise, "Granger's not half bad."

"You think I didn't notice?" asked Draco. "Must've done something over the summer...she's damn hot now."

"Lucky you," said Blaise reproachfully. "You've always got ass waiting for you in your room."

Draco sighed, as if suddenly remembering that happy thought. "Yeah, but she's being all 'catch me if you can' about it."

"So what? That's never stopped you before."

Draco was silent. He raised his head the tiniest bit, watching Hermione from behind his eyelashes. She _was_ some hot stuff. Her long, shiny, straight hair hung like a curtain behind which her pink face peeked. Dark lashes covered her chocolatey eyes, and her lips always seemed juicy and inviting. Not to mention her nice rack.

"If you can bag her before Christmas, I'll give you five hundred galleons," whispered Blaise.

Draco grinned. "Deal."

*

*

*

After Potions, the class dispersed to their respective Common Rooms to rid themselves of their books before dinner. They were all feeling slightly woozy, as apparently the side effects of Dereservation potions came before the actual effect of the potion. They were all due to have a hyped up night, as the potion would hit their nervous systems by seven o'clock. Trudging down the staircase, Hermione made sure to grab the rail in case she fell over. The banging in her head that had started the moment she gulped down the potion had gotten seemingly louder. Everything seemed slightly blurry, and her head felt stuffy, like she had a cold. She groaned as she was passed by countless students watching her warily.

"All right there, Hermione?" said a voice. Hermione turned around to see Harry, also with a hazy look on his face but seeming a bit more grounded. He grabbed her arm and together they made their dizzy way down to the Great Hall.

"Dish ish 'orrible," muttered Hermione. "Why would Shnape make ush drink dish?"

"He's a loser villain who has nothing better to do?" said Harry, guiding Hermione over to the Gryffindor table.

"'Ow come you're not...not...wooooozy?" mumbled Hermione.

"I didn't drink it all...dribbled it down my shirt, see?" he whispered, pointing towards his darkened robes.

Hermione frowned in indignation. "Not fair!"

Harry laughed and set her down. Ron was already there, sitting on the opposite side. He appeared to be just as faint as Hermione.

"Hiya Haaarry," he said, smiling stupidly. "Fanshy a peesh of minshemeat pie?"

Dinner was a long, drawn-out affair. Eating seemed to have become an almost superhuman task, as even getting a spoon up to Hermione's mouth was proving to be difficult. Hermione's hand kept wobbling, and her mind seemed to have no sense of depth. Finally, through the fog clouding her brain, she decided she would just go back up to her room.

"Are you okay getting back?" asked Harry.

"Yesh...thanksh..." she said, steadily making her way back up.

It was only about six thirty, and Hermione hadn't received too much homework tonight, so she decided to take a short nap and sleep the potion off. As soon as she got back to her common room, and plopped down on the sofa in front of the fire. She would have gone to her bedroom, but all the energy that remained in her was to lift up her legs and lie comfortably on the plushy cushions. Feeling slightly more relaxed, she let herself drift into sleep...

*

*

*

Draco wasn't feeling so great himself. Although he hadn't taken the Dereservation potion (he'd promptly performed a Vanishing spell on his and claimed to Snape that he'd drunk it), his head had started hurting from the heavy fumes in the classroom, and he knew he needed a drink or two with Blaise. He headed over to the Slytherin Common Room, which was not his to share anymore but was welcome to visit now and then. As he stepped inside, he found it to be very full of students, all chattering excitedly. He missed this green haven of silver snakes and leaves embroidered on the tapestries of the walls, and the emerald pool that bubbled like poison in the center of the room.

He spotted Blaise in an armchair in the corner of the room, his legs up on the armrest, ignoring a third-year who had taken up the opposite armchair.

"Get off," said Draco, shooting a dangerous look towards the student. He immediately ran off towards the dormitories, glancing backwards in fear at the look on Draco's face.

"Ah, visiting the nobility, are you?" said Blaise, seemingly better tempered now that Draco was here.

"Got a fucking headache over in Potions. Needed a break," muttered Draco, plonking onto the other armchair and loosening his tie.

"Drink?" asked Blaise, pouring a clear, dark liquid into a crystal glass.

"That's what I came for."

They sat in comfortable silence as they watched all the Slytherins talking to each other. A group of first-years were sitting near the fireplace, playing a game of Gobstones. Millicent Bulstrode and Theodore Nott were in the far corner, a thin train of smoke wafting upwards from their area. A few sixth-year girls strode by in front of Draco and Blaise, swaying their hips suggestively. They both smirked at the girls, raising their glasses as if to toast them. The girls giggled furiously and made their way up to the girl's dormitories.

"Dibs -," said Blaise.

"-on the-," said Draco.

"-blonde one," they finished at the same time. Draco laughed, pouring himself another drink.

"All right, you get her first," he said.

"Don't forget, you've got a hot one waiting for you back in your room," said Blaise, chuckling.

"Yeah..." said Draco, his mind beginning to wander. He _did_ have a hot one waiting in his room...a very hot one. He found it astonishing that little, nerdy Hermione Granger was now one of the sexiest girls in the entire school. As he thought of her hot body again, he watched as a young girl came walking over to the table nearest to them. Absently, he followed Blaise's gaze towards her skirt, as she innocently poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table.

"Wouldn't you like something a bit...stronger?" said Blaise in a deep voice. Draco watched with a smirk on his face as Blaise poured the girl a drink from his crystal decanter and motioned for her to come and sit with him.

"What's your name?" Blaise asked. The girl smiled, her eyes glittering.

"Eliza," she said.

Blaise reached over and grabbed a piece of ice from the crystal bowl beside the decanter. As Eliza sat down on the armrest of Blaise's chair, he popped the piece of ice into her mouth. She sucked on it hard, gazing suggestively at Blaise, and finally bit down on it.

"Well, what do you know," said Blaise. "You just broke the ice."

Draco rolled his eyes, laughing, and got up. He left Blaise with Eliza, making his way back to his personal Common Room. The journey was a long one, from the dungeons to the highest towers, and he didn't feel like taking all those staircases, but he carried on.

Finally, he said the password and went inside. The first thing he noticed was Hermione curled up on the couch. Quietly, he went over to her. He didn't know why, or what was wrong with him, but he found himself watching her very carefully. He was focusing on the buttery tints that shone in her hair, and the density of her dark eyelashes; her small, pink mouth that was slightly open and her chest that was slowly rising and falling. He was being stupid, he knew, but he couldn't help but think that she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Shaking his head, Draco adopted his stony, grim expression again and prodded her awake.

"Mmmmhhhh..." sounded Hermione, her eyebrows turning down into a frown.

"Granger...Granger," said Draco, shaking her arm violently.

She opened her eyes suddenly, a massive grin playing on her face. "Hi, Malfoy!" she exclaimed.

Draco pulled back in alarm. What was going on?

"Back from dinner?" asked Hermione, her smile showing off her bright, white teeth.

"Stop acting like you're high, mudblood. It doesn't become you," he snapped. Hermione scowled.

"I thought I told you not to call me mudblood anymore, prick," she hissed. Her face was suddenly red in anger. Draco was slightly alarmed from the rapid change in mood.

"At least I'm not bipolar," he said, stepping away from her. Her beautiful face was contorted in rage, and he could see her hands shaking furiously. Draco was frightened at the way her eyes were glinting.

"How dare you!" she screamed, reaching down to pick up the closest object. Her hands caught a heavy Arithmancy book, and she yelled as she threw it towards Draco. He ducked just in time, hearing the book hitting the floor with a heavy thud. Startled, he wrapped his arms around her just in time, before her arms started flailing out in anger. He could feel her biting and hissing like a furious cat in his arms, and he turned her body around as she lifted herself off the floor to kick his legs with her foot.

"Calm down, Granger!" he yelled over her cries. He set her onto the couch again, but she was going insane, kicking and pushing his chest away from her. Her hair covered her face like a madwoman, and her eyes were blood red. "Granger!" he shouted. "Granger! Granger! Hermione!"

Suddenly she stopped kicking. Her arms and legs fell back onto the couch like paper limbs, her energy draining out from her. Draco watched confusedly as her eyes became normal again behind the curtain of her hair. Tentatively, he reached down and pushed away the tendrils covering her face. As soon as his fingers touched her skin, the corners of her lips went upwards.

"Mmmm...Draco," she muttered, getting up slowly from the couch. He pulled back from her, but she was too quick for him. In one swift movement, she had pushed him onto the couch and was now straddling him, her back arched and her chest stuck out provocatively.

"Oh...Draco..." she whispered, her soft lips tracing a pattern on his neck. Bewildered, Draco, wrenched back her arms from him, locking them to her sides. However, with some kind of weird force, Hermione managed to pull away from his grasp and wrapped her arms around him.

Completely confused, bewildered, annoyed and turned on, Draco attempted to pull himself away from her, but somehow his body just wouldn't comply. He could feel his pants tightening as Hermione began grinding her hips against his suggestively. He could see her shirt straining under the pressure of her nipples, and her lips were glossy and red and simply begging for his caress.

He was about to kiss her, but he thought better of it and placed a light finger upon her lips. Hermione took it in her mouth and sucked, her gaze fiery beneath her eyelashes. He found this gesture to be so erotic that he couldn't help but pull her lithe body towards him, pressing his hands against her back. He withdrew his finger and she bent down again, kissing his collarbone.

Suddenly, he grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her neck. She moaned in pain and delight as he watched her chest rising and falling in anticipation and fear. Her eyes were closed and she waited, breathing hard. He brought his lips down to her neck, ravaging the skin there. He could hear her whimpering as he twisted her hair in his hands, but somehow her pain made him feel like he was back in power. He didn't know why, but for the past few days he had begun to feel like she was the stronger of the two. Hearing her cries caused him to smirk into her neck, biting down and leaving a mark on her untainted skin.

He was sure that it wouldn't be the last mark he would leave.

* * *

**A/N:** keep reviewing! please remember that it really gives me inspiration to keep writing, so review review review!!


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Abruptly, her body began to shudder. A kind of wave passed through her, like an electric current. Draco immediately let go of her hair and her waist, watching as her head snapped back up and her eyes refocused. Her eyebrows furrowed as she slowly realized exactly where she was.

"Um...what are you doing?" asked Hermione, as if he was guilty.

"Nothing!" exclaimed Draco. "I didn't do anything. You came on to me!"

"Stop lying, you dimwit. You were trying to seduce me."

"Er, hello? Did you notice who's sitting on who?"

Hermione's eyes opened in surprise as she looked down between them. She awkwardly cleared her throat.

"Well, you obviously put a spell on me," said Hermione, hands on her hips.

"No."

"A love potion, then?"

"A love potion?" said Draco, his eyebrows cocked sceptically. "A fucking, girly, love potion? Why the fuck would I give YOU a love potion? You don't need one. You're already in love with me!"

"Shut up, you prick!" said Hermione, crossing her arms angrily. Draco was momentarily distracted as he watched her arms snuggled under her breasts, wishing he still had her luscious body on him.

"Watch your words, Granger, or I just might spank you."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Draco smirked.

"Bet you'd like that, eh? A nice spanking from the Slytherin King?"

Hermione's chest began to rise and fall rapidly from anger. Draco's eyes started glinting.

"Oh, but you'd have to be a bad girl first, in order to be spanked. Have you been a bad girl, Granger?" he asked, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Ok, that's it. Just SHUT UP!" yelled Hermione. "You're just a perverted dickhead who can't keep his tiny pecker in his pants!"

"Oh really?" said Draco, folding his arms and leaning back on the sofa. Hermione momentarily looked away, her eyes narrowing as she tried recalling why on earth she was on Draco's lap.

"Oh...my...God..." she muttered in a low voice. "What the FUCK did I do?"

Draco smirked. "You swore. Wow."

"Shut up!" She slapped him on the side of his head while he laughed. Hermione got up, standing in front of Draco's widespread legs.

"Time for another lap dance?" he asked.

Hermione fretfully ran her hands through her hair, which had become mussed from all the rolling around. "What the hell happened to me? Why was I...on...you?"

"Don't ask me...you were pissed, and then animalistic and then horny all in the space of five minutes."

"But why?"

Draco shrugged. He was still watching her curvy body in front of him. He would have covered the visible bulge in his pants but figured she could probably figure out how that happened anyway. Besides, he was _Draco Malfoy_. He had the _right_ to be turned on.

But Hermione's attention was elsewhere. She was looking off into nowhere, apparently trying to figure out what was wrong with her.

"I bet someone slipped something into my drink – Oh...my...God..." she said again.

"What?

Hermione's eyes widened in realisation. "It was the Dereservation Potion! Merlin, I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner!"

"Huh." Draco shrugged.

She looked back down at him. "Aren't you in the least bit surprised?"

"No," he said easily. "Although I should probably ask Professor Snape for some more of those Dereservation Potions, especially if the effects are like this..." he trailed off, smirking at Hermione's angry face.

"I don't need to deal with you right now," said Hermione lightly, turning on her heel to march towards her room. "_I'm_ going to bed."

"See you later, mudblood," called Draco.

"DON'T CALL ME MUDBLOOD!" shouted Hermione. And with that, she slammed the door. Leaning back, she pressed her ear against it.

He was laughing.

*

*

*

Over the next few weeks, there was a significant increase in the amount of homework they were getting. Professor McGonagall had no pity for students who failed to finish their Transfiguration homework; she was handing out detentions faster than ever. Even Flitwik was getting tougher, especially if someone in class happened to somehow trip him or hit him with a wayward charm by accident. Getting up off the floor, his tiny little face would turn red, and he seemed to almost pop from anger before giving them all another assignment to complete. Potions was, of course, no joke, as Snape didn't give a damn about anyone or anything. The seventh years were fairly used to his bat-like tendencies, but this only seemed to bring out his worst; it was a fortunate day when one of the Hufflepuff girls wouldn't run out of class crying.

Of course, none of this really fazed Hermione, seeing as she had done all this "last year". Even though the old Hermione had whizzed through all her classes last year, what with being distracted with random daydreams of her and a certain blond boy alone and with Ron's increased chatter, she was sincerely glad she remembered most of her class work from last year.

Oh yes, she and Ron had made up. Or rather, she had listened to his murmured apology. She willingly accepted, although she wished she hadn't because he couldn't stop talking to her now. It was hard keeping up with both Ron and Harry's banter as well as her highly imaginative mind while still concentrating on the question Professor Sprout was asking her.

Indeed, by mid-October, Hermione was thoroughly tired of classes (which shocked Ron to an almost petrified state when she told him so), and was glad to find out the first Hogsmeade trip was going to be in three weeks.

"Perfect!" she heard Romilda's voice say as all the Gryffindors crowded in the common room in front of the notice board. "That's the day of my birthday!"

Hermione went back to the couch with Ron and Harry. She had decided to spend her evening in the Gryffindor common room instead of her own. It was too tempting and annoying being around Draco all the time and besides, he was probably getting laid right now.

"Reckon I can skive off Potions tomorrow?" Ron asked them, slumping down on the cushions. "I want some extra time before Quidditch practice."

Harry grinned. "There's still a lot of time left before the next match, Ron."

"Easy for you to say! You're captain, no one can tell you off if you're flying bad!"

"Ron, you don't have an ounce of self-esteem," chided Hermione.

"Ouch," said Harry.

Ron frowned. "Yeah, well it's tough! People expect me to be the greatest keeper ever and it's kind of hard when I don't get enough time to practice!"

"Don't worry, mate," said Harry, looking up from his history essay. "We can both skip Potions tomorrow. I need to set up the field tomorrow anyways. I have some plans for practice."

"You can't _both _skip!" exclaimed Hermione. "What am I going to do alone?"

"What are you talking about?" said Ron. "There's a ton of people in that class!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "More like ten."

"Well you can hang out with your roommate then," said Ron bitterly.

"Who, Malfoy?" asked Hermione, immediately coloring. "Oh God, no."

Harry twirled his quill in his hand. "Just go with Ernie. He might shake your hand and give you a report on the weather, though."

Hermione laughed. Ernie was known for his pompous personality.

Suddenly, they heard someone calling out. Looking around, they saw that Romilda Vane had stood up on a stool in front of the fire and was addressing them all.

"As you may know, it's my birthday in three weeks," she said, flipping her hair vainly as her friends catcalled, "and you guys are all invited!"

The common room cheered; the seventh-years a little less enthusiastic than the first-years, who were obviously delighted they had been invited to their first out-of-school Hogwarts party.

"See you all at the Three Broomsticks!" called out Romilda. "You don't have to bring presents," she said, not even having the decency to blush, "but I don't mind at all if you do!"

Hermione, Ron and Harry rolled their eyes and turned back in their seats.

"Of course she doesn't mind," said Harry, crossing out one of his lines of his history essay. "That's probably why she invited the entire house."

Ron snorted and closed his eyes, folding his arms back and resting his head against them. Hermione took this opportunity to talk to Harry.

"You know, this would be a good chance to talk to Ginny about...getting back together," whispered Hermione.

Harry threw a glance towards Ron before responding. "But Hermione, I can't just ask her about it. It's not something you just talk about. I want her to want me back again."

Hermione leaned back on the sofa, exasperated. "How Harry?"

He was silent for a moment before answering. "I know I made a mistake last year. I know I shouldn't have told her that I was breaking up with her because of Voldemort. I never really thought about how it would affect her, I guess." Harry looked steadily into the fire. "She still talks to me, but it's...dead, almost. There's no life in her when she looks at me. And I know better than anyone that Ginny's best when she's fired up, whether she's mad or ecstatic. I just...need some kind of emotion from her...anything!" He looked back at her. "Please, Hermione, please think of something! I just want that...spark back in her."

Hermione watched him, his eyes round and serious. She could somehow understand where this was all coming from. For the first time, he had loved someone – he was not being protected this time: _he_ was protecting someone. And what with Ginny's uncanny resemblance to Harry's mother, she could see his deep attachment to her. Hermione rubbed her eyes, racking her brains for any sort of tactic.

"Harry..." she started, "you know...you could maybe make her...jealous?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

"You know, jealous. You said you want to fire her up...get a rise out of her. Nothing shows a person's real feelings better than jealousy. Just hang out with another girl and Ginny just might get angry enough to storm at you."

Harry seemed to mull it over in his head for while. Then suddenly –

"Yes! It'll work! It'll get her angry, and then she won't talk to me, so I can start talking to her and piss her off more and more until she finally realises we're supposed to be together!"

Hermione stared at Harry. "Wow. I'll let you figure out how it's all supposed to happen."

"But who do I make her jealous with?" asked Harry, frowning.

"I dunno..." yawned Hermione, stretching her arms. It was getting late; she should have probably been heading back to her dorm. She rubbed her eyes again, thankfully remembering that she had put on a water and smudge-resistant charm on her mascara.

"That's it!" exclaimed Harry.

"What?"

"It's you!"

"I know it's me."

"No," said Harry, smiling widely now. "I'll make her jealous with you!"

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Um, no."

"Um, yes."

"No! Harry, you can't possibly be serious! Ginny's one of my closest friends...she won't believe it!"

But Harry wasn't paying attention; he had reached over and was touching Hermione's hair with a delighted expression on his face.

"Of course she'll believe it! You're all hot now, remember?"

Hermione smacked his hand away. "Harry, you're not in your right mind now...I think you should think about this a bit more...I'm definitely NOT helping you with this!"

"Oh, come on, Hermione, just this once."

"Harry," she said, looking him straight in the eye while crossing her arms over her chest resignedly, "she is one of my closest friends. I can_not_ do that to her."

"Please?"

"She'll never talk to me again!"

"Yes, she will. I'll make sure of it. Please, Hermione?" begged Harry, his eyes round and puppy dog-like.

Hermione was quiet, but looked into Harry's eyes with an unsure expression. He was one of her best friends, and Ginny was her best girlfriend. How could she do this to her? But Harry's face...

"Oh fine," said Hermione, annoyed at Harry and herself for agreeing. "But let me tell you, this plan is in grave, grave danger of FAILING and if it does, I will never talk to you again!"

"Not even if Voldemort is about to finish me off?" asked Harry with his pouty face again.

"Shut up," she said, smacking him on the arm while he laughed. "Don't joke about things like that."

He chuckled, watching her serious face until she rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Well, I'm going to bed. Say goodnight to Ron for me."

"Thanks, Hermione," said Harry, getting up from his seat to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I owe you one."

"Mhm," she assented, before leaving and going through the Fat Lady's portrait. She drew a deep sigh.

It was time to go back to her room – and Draco.

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**A/N:** please remember to **REVIEW** if you want me to update!

_**~starlite rose**_


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: PLEASE READ** - I have changed my name from Starlite Rose to **Veralena**. Personal reasons.

Thank you to all of those who reviewed. It really pushes me to keep writing.

And I know that there hasn't yet been any sex scenes. TRUST ME...there will be a LOT of sex scenes soon. Anyways, enjoy this rather early update!

**

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Chapter 7**

The next day dawned bright and early, as Hermione woke to, luckily, no sex sounds. Although she doubted Draco was a 'morning quickie' kind of person (he seemed more 'late night sex'), she never seemed to know what was going on in the room opposite her. She quickly brushed, dressed and headed down to the Great Hall.

Classes went by quickly. Harry was keen to discuss tactics to make Ginny jealous, but Hermione kept brushing him off, telling him that it was not wise to say words like 'strategy' with Ron around. They assumed he had heard nothing the night before, since he was jolly and hungry (typical Ron characteristics), but they could never really be sure with Ron.

After reprimanding them for skiving off next period, Potions, she proceeded alone to the dungeons, already feeling goose bumps on her skin appearing from the cold. Shifting her book bag from one shoulder to the other, she realized she was early. She decided to wait outside the classroom, pushing back her hair behind her ear as she leaned against the wall.

"Wouldn't have expected you to be _still_ on time, Granger."

Hermione looked up to see that Draco had joined her, smirking down at her with his textbooks in one hand. His shirtsleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, exposing the large veins protruding from his pale forearms, simply rippling with muscle. His collar was turned up, his tie hanging loose around the few shirt buttons he had opened, revealing his hard chest. Hermione swallowed before answering.

"What do you mean?"

"I would've thought that you were over being a model student this year, Granger," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I thought maybe you were going to be a bit less uptight and maybe...let loose."

Hermione scowled.

"Guess not," he said. Still smirking, he leaned closer towards her; Hermione gulped as his eyes gazed into hers. "Although it would be nice if you actually enjoyed yourself, Granger. If you ever need any help, I can pretty much guarantee a -,"

"Draco!"

Immediately, they broke apart, and Hermione noticed Romilda Vane standing in front of Draco. When she noticed Hermione, she frowned.

"Oh..." she said quietly. Then, apparently deciding to dismiss Hermione, she turned back to Draco.

"I have a surprise for you..." she cooed, inching closer to him. He backed up against the wall, looking slightly bewildered, amused, and embarrassed, but she continued moving towards him.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" he asked warily.

Romilda leaned against him, putting one hand on his shoulder to raise herself to his height so she could whisper in his ear, although Hermione could hear everything clearly.

"It's my birthday in three weeks...and I want you to come."

Draco pulled back from her, his face looking slightly relieved. "Oh...that's...fine."

"I know you might not have any of your friends from Slytherin there," she said in a baby-girl voice, playing with his tie, "but you'll be my special guest." She winked at him.

Hermione nearly gagged.

The Potions door opened; Snape was in. Hermione looked around her, realizing that the bell had rung and there were students waiting behind them.

"Promise you'll come," cooed Romilda, leaning forward.

"Uh, sure," said Draco, his eyes slightly widening as they traveled down the deep crevice of her cleavage. "See you around," he said, quickly patting her ass as she giggled, sauntering away.

Hermione cleared her throat and walked into the classroom. She set her bag down on the table that was usually for Harry, Ron, Ernie and himself, but noticed that not even Ernie had showed up to class. Groaning, she settled herself into her chair, folding her arms, frustrated.

"Today," began Snape, his greasy hair almost covering the entire top part of his face, including his black eyes, "you shall be learning how to concoct a complicated potion with a simple result. The Gender-Changing Potion is self-explanatory. Perhaps your brains will be addled by the fumes, already hazy and useless as they are, but I shall deduct points if your potion begins to smoke any color. Only transparent fumes are acceptable. The instructions are on page three hundred and seventy six. Follow the times recommended by your textbook. _Do not_ use up all the berlykin root. Begin."

Hermione began rummaging through her bag for her textbook when she heard Snape glide over to her table, his face looking menacing.

"Ah, I see Potter and Weasley have left the know-it-all alone...tut-tut. What shall we do...Ah," he exclaimed quietly with a sneer, "Mr. Malfoy!" he shouted across the classroom. "Why don't you join Miss Granger today? I'm sure you shall complete your work _well_ before the end of class with Mr. Malfoy as your partner," he said, turning on his heel with a satisfied, evil look on his face.

Hermione groaned. It was enough that she had to share a common room with him, and now she had to be his Potions partner? Were the gods testing her will power over her temptations?

"Well, well, well, Granger," muttered Draco as he walked over to her table. "Looks like you got the privilege to be partners with the Slytherin King."

She snorted at his triumphant look, giving him a pitiful once-over before turning back to her textbook.

"I honestly don't care. It's enough that I have to see you three times a day around my room." She snatched his textbook out of his hand and flipped quickly to page three hundred and seventy six, handing the open textbook back to him. "Make yourself useful and get these ingredients."

Draco seemed highly affronted with such a command.

"You can't just order me to do things, Granger," he drawled. "Remember who you're talking to."

"I do remember," replied Hermione, sighing heavily as if tired by the conversation. "I'm talking to the _boy_ who needs a different girl every night just to keep his ego intact."

Draco's face paled, and then regaining composure, he smirked. "Just the fact that I _get_ all those girls to come to me proves my power. Face it, Granger, you can't resist me either."

"Not in a million years," lied Hermione through her teeth.

Draco sat down in the chair next to her. Realizing that they had just spent five minutes arguing, Hermione exhaled, annoyed. She got up from her seat.

"I don't have time for your stupid ego trips. I want to get this potion done, and you're helping no matter what." Noticing that he had cocked his eyebrows, she turned towards the cupboards, talking to him over her shoulder. "Go get the scales and cutting boards. I'm serious."

She returned a few minutes later with the proper ingredients to find that Draco had indeed brought the correct scales and instruments. Mentally smiling, she quickly began reading the instructions out loud.

"_Precisely cut the echinacea stems lengthways _– I'll do that – _and grind the beetle eyes to a fine powder_ – you can do that."

"What are we doing, anyway?" he asked, grabbing the mortar and pestle.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't you ever listen in class? I thought you liked Potions."

"Like?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows. "I don't like any of my classes. I think they're a waste of time."

Hermione appeared scandalized. "But why?"

A dark look crossed over his eyes. "What's the point, really? I mean, what will we get out of all this? Stupid spells and charms we'll never need...idiotic potions we'll never need to drink. It's all a big joke, isn't it? Besides...I know I'll never need this."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

He cleared his throat. "Nothing."

"Malfoy, come on."

"Like I'd tell you, Granger," he sneered, smashing the beetle eyes.

Silence reigned for a long moment as Hermione continued cutting the echinacea stems and Draco turned the beetle eyes into a powder. Hermione read out the next instruction and they proceeded onwards in continued silence.

"You never answered my question," said Draco suddenly.

"What?"

"What are we doing?"

Hermione exhaled. "Oh. We're making a Gender-Changing Potion."

"What the fuck?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Now that she thought of it, she wasn't entirely sure why they were making this either.

"It changes your gender depending on your -,"

"I know, Granger, I can figure that one out for myself."

Draco was quiet for a while, apparently lost in thought. Then –

"I'd never want to turn into a woman."

Hermione burst out laughing, almost hitting Draco in the face with her cutting knife. Most of the people in the class turned to look at her most curiously; after all, why would Hermione Granger laugh at one of Draco Malfoy's jokes? Did Draco Malfoy _ever_ joke?

"What?" asked Draco, lost.

Hermione slowly calmed herself, turning back to Draco.

"Oh, Merlin...nothing. So why wouldn't you want to turn into a woman?" she asked, amused.

"Because," he replied, as if the answer was obvious, "a man's just got it so much easier. We're the better sex."

Hermione's smile faded, a frown replacing it.

"Um, since when?" she asked coldly.

"Since the dawn of time," he said. "Men are just superior."

"You ignorant prick," hissed Hermione, "you know I'm a hundred times smarter than you, and I could kick your sorry little ass at a dueling match any day. And _I'm_ a girl."

Draco smirked at her; he argued the point no further, because inside, he knew she was right. But just watching her all inflamed and angry made him all that more attracted to her. She was radiant and full of life, so unlike all the other girls he usually fucked. She had substance.

"What?" spat Hermione, when she noticed he hadn't spoken in a while.

"Nothing."

"Malfoy..."

"So how are your dear friends Potty and the Weasel doing, Granger?" he said quickly, evidently to change the subject from him.

"Wow Malfoy," replied Hermione coldly as she chopped her furstone stalks, "I didn't know you cared so much for my friends."

"Pft, yeah right, Granger. I suppose Potter's still banging his head against walls to get yet _another_ 'famous' scar and Weasley's charming his hand-me-downs to actually fit him."

"Shut. The. Hell. Up," hissed Hermione, her voice quavering. "You...you...tapeworm!"

Draco burst out laughing this time, his pale face reddening slightly. "Tapeworm? Seriously, Granger? Hahaha..."

Hermione couldn't help a small smile coming to her lips. "Shut up."

Once his laughter had subsided, Draco watched her closely, his eyes still twinkling in amusement. "You see, Granger? You're warming up to me after all."

"No I'm not," she snapped.

"You are," he said, "and you can't deny it."

Hermione blushed, but looked away. He caught the hints of pink creeping up on her cheek behind her hair, however, and watched her quietly.

Suddenly, Draco's eyes lit up in malice. Hermione didn't quite catch it, but he had already concealed the look on his face.

"In fact..." he continued slowly, "now that I think of it, Granger, I've never seen you flirt with anyone." Hermione looked daggers at him, but he continued with a smirk on his face. "Yeah...not anyone. Do you know how to flirt, Granger? Or did you never learn from your beloved books?"

"Shut up before I curse you, Malfoy!"

"You probably can't even get the little Creevey kid. Ha!" he exclaimed, his eyes dancing in amusement at the look on her face.

"I _can_ flirt, Malfoy," Hermione hissed back, "what would you know?"

"Prove it then," he said triumphantly, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "Prove that you can flirt. In fact, I'll make a bet with you."

"Oh, excellent," muttered Hermione under her breath, "another unfair, disadvantaged bet..."

"Not at all, Granger. I bet ten galleons that you can't seduce me."

Hermione's face reddened even further as she turned to look at him.

"You can't be serious!"

"Like a heart attack," he said easily.

"This is just an excuse for you to...take advantage of me again!" said Hermione.

"Granger – "

"Shut it!"

Draco's eyes were round in outrage. "– you know you're lying. I never took advantage of you. You were -,"

"Don't bring it up again!"

"- _you_ took advantage of _me_! I feel violated," he ended with a mock-scandalized face.

Hermione was quiet for a moment, trying to contain her amusement at his expression. She thought of the situation and was inwardly leaping for joy; what a perfect excuse to heat things up with Draco! But he couldn't know that...

"Ugh! Fine!" she said, throwing up her arms in defeat.

"Great," he said, glad that she'd agreed. "Take your time with it, Granger. I'll be expecting something good," he said, clapping his hands together.

_Perfect_, he thought victoriously, _this makes my bet with Blaise easier. She'll come to me..._

"Ten minutes!" called out Snape.

"Oh my god!" exclaimed Hermione, hurriedly throwing the chopped furstone stalks into the cauldron. She reached over and added Draco's ingredients as well, stirring furiously while simultaneously reading the instructions from the textbook.

"It says 'stir clockwise sixteen and a half times'," said Draco, leaning back in his chair as Hermione worked on the potion rapidly. She heard him and immediately began stirring more confidently. On the sixteenth stir, the potion turned dull purple. The half stir turned it a bright shade of violet.

"Time's up!" called out Snape. "Bring your potions to the front."

Hermione scooped some of the potion into a flask, ran to the front of the classroom and set it on his desk, but not before casting an Unbreakable Charm on it. She had had too much experience in Snape's class to risk her flask breaking.

"Phew," she said, once she had returned to her desk. Draco was already packing up his books. She followed suit and made towards the door.

"Hold up, Granger," he said. "You can't leave without me."

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**A/N:** Please remember to **REVIEW **if you want me to update!

_**~Veralena**_


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N:** hey everyone! guess what? i'm done writing the first sex scene! haha trust me it will be coming soon. after all, i wanted to make draco and hermione's relationship seem real, not just a "hey, let's fuck" kinda thing...btw, please keep in mind that for the sake of THIS story, voldemort does NOT play a major role. like, at all. i dont even think harry worries about him that much. so don't be surprised that the biggest problem in his mind is ginny...aaanndd YES!! we have hit the 100 mark for reviews! thanks to everyone who takes the time to read my story...it really means a lot. keep reviewing, guys! much, much more to come soon!

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Chapter 8**

Hermione's heart stopped in her chest. She turned slowly to face Draco, but was relieved to see that he was only joking..sort of. He smirked, lightly bumping into her as he moved out of the classroom.

"Come on, Granger, I'll help you a bit with your bet," he said, leaning against a wall as he waited for Hermione to pack up her books from her desk. "How about I accompany you to our dorm room?"

He raised his eyebrows meaningfully, and Hermione was once again struck by the temptation of it all; of Draco, of his attitude towards her, and her longing to have him. Ignoring the silver chips of ice that were his eyes, she sidestepped him and left the classroom. She could hear him behind her.

"Sorry, Malfoy. I've got to go to Quidditch practice."

"What?" he exclaimed, amused. "Since when do you play Quidditch?"

"I don't," she muttered, weaving her way through the tons of students milling around the corridor. "But Harry and Ron do, and I'm going to go watch them play."

"You never come watch _me_ play," he said in a mock disappointed voice.

"Shut it, Malfoy. Like I care about _your_ Quidditch skills."

"They come in handy sometimes," he said, smirking.

Hermione was quiet for a moment before his words hit her. "Ugh. You dickhead!"

"Well think of it," he added reasonably, although she could hear his laughter in his voice, "you put your legs on either side of the broom..."

"Merlin, why can't you ever stop talking!" said Hermione exasperatedly, making her way towards the Entrance Hall.

"How about if I come to Quidditch practice with you, Granger?" he asked, keeping pace with her quick strides.

"How about...NO?"

"Come on, I'll be quiet," he pleaded, although not quite convincingly. Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped onto the school grounds, heading towards the Quidditch field.

"Granger!" shouted Draco, suddenly grabbing her hand. He whirled her around, pulling her with such force towards him that she was thrust onto his hard chest. Surprised, Hermione tried wrestling her hand away from his grasp, but each movement of hers proved in strengthening his hold on her.

"Look at me," murmured Draco, almost in a serpent-like hiss, reminding Hermione uncomfortably of Harry speaking Parseltongue. She raised her head to gaze steadily into his eyes, which, in the darkness of the night, were twinkling like stars from the torch flames on the castle walls. She could feel herself blushing, and she could feel that longing again. Her nipples hardened as they were pressed against his chiseled chest. She could feel a tingling warmth seeping through to her very core as she felt his body pressed up against hers. She could feel Draco's breath against her face, and she licked her lips, watching his handsome face hungrily.

How much she wished that she could shag him right there, right at this moment; to moan in abandonment under the stars and feel that pleasure that she knew she could only get from him. And yet some part of her brain was still not addled by his presence. She thought of what she was doing, and she remembered that she was Hermione Granger. Reluctantly, she wrenched herself away from him.

"I'll see you later, Malfoy," said Hermione, casually walking away from him as if nothing had happened.

"What? Wait!" he called after her. "Granger!"

"I've got to go, Malfoy. Harry and Ron are expecting me!"

She stopped and turned around to see him standing there, a few feet away. Never before had he looked so vulnerable, so childish. She gazed at him in awe, at the cool, distant, and arrogant Draco...now standing alone on the Hogwarts grounds, looking quite forlorn.

"I'll see you tonight, Malfoy," she said, perhaps more kindly this time.

He looked back at her steadily. Then slowly he moved, turning back towards the castle. His face hardened, the barrier was back up.

"Whatever, Granger. Like I give a damn. Have fun with your stupid friends," he muttered bitterly, before striding quickly back towards the castle.

Hermione stood there for a while, slightly hurt most mostly amazed. She had never seen this side of Draco. _Maybe_, she thought privately, _I'll get to know more of that side..._

She marched along towards the Quidditch field. She was indeed late, for she when she arrived, Harry and the entire team were flying around, throwing Quaffles at each other and Ron, the Keeper. She spotted Ginny hovering near the goalposts; perhaps this was a perfect opportunity to get Harry's plan working.

Wrapping a thin, red scarf multiple times around her neck, she took a seat in the middle of the stands, letting out a cheer for all the team members. Hearing the noise, most of them turned around and spotted her. She waved to some of them, and then Harry and Ron. When Harry waved to her, he tried discreetly pointing at Ginny, and Hermione, noticing this, nodded vigorously at him to signal that she had gotten the message.

"Ok team," said Harry, rallying up his players. "Let's try the Layered Dropping Technique. Demelza, keep sharp; we don't want to drop the Quaffle too far this time. Sloper and Kirke, try keeping the Bludgers away until everyone gets the tactic perfectly, ok? Let's do this!" he shouted, as everyone dispersed.

Hermione watched, amazed, as the team members went into a column formation, hovering twenty feet above one another. On Harry's whistle, they all sped forward at the same time, and the Quaffle was dropped from one player's hands to the player's below them. It was a technique that allowed quick saves from the opposing team, and Demelza, the player on the bottom, ended the technique by scoring the Quaffle through Ron's left goalpost.

"Ron! Stay awake!" shouted Ginny from high above. Ron scowled.

"Yeah, well we've never done this tactic before...thought Demelza was going to score on the right hoop..." he mumbled.

"Oh, stop giving excuses," said Ginny. The other players were laughing at their sibling banter, but Harry gave Hermione a furtive glance before turning on Ginny.

"Stop pestering Ron," yelled Harry at Ginny, who looked shocked at him and began retreating, "and get to your position, NOW!"

Looking hurt, Ginny flew off in the other direction. Hermione wasn't quite sure if this was how Harry would get Ginny back, but she couldn't exactly do much from her position in the stands.

The team continued playing for a while. Harry let the players try a practice game, splitting the team in two and placing Kirke as the other Keeper. Shouting encouragement at his players was difficult, as he was also searching for the Snitch.

"Go Harry!" shouted Hermione. Her worried gaze was not on Harry, but on Ginny, who narrowed her eyes at Hermione. Partly grinning to herself and partly worried that Ginny was already deciding how she was going to kill her, Hermione turned her head just in time to see Harry rushing towards a tiny golden speck in the sky – the Snitch.

He zoomed through the air, his hand outstretched, and suddenly, he caught it. The other team members clapped, stopping in midair. Harry flew back down to their level, and pointed the Snitch at Hermione triumphantly. Hermione's eyes widened. He was smart, Harry, to have dedicated his catch to Hermione, especially in front of Ginny. She turned to see Ginny looking daggers at Harry, already flying back towards the ground.

Grimacing, Hermione stood up. Harry was dismissing the players, congratulating them on an excellent practice. Everyone flew back to the ground and started heading towards the Changing Rooms.

"That was great, Harry!" said Hermione, once she had caught up to him. He gave her a pointed look, and she hurried to congratulate Ron as well.

"I've got to work harder on my spins," said Ron, ignoring Hermione's praise. It's the only way I can save Quaffles coming from side angles."

"Don't worry, Ron, I'm sure you'll be fine for the match," said Hermione.

"Easy for you to say," he replied, pushing his rumpled red hair out of his face. "You don't have to defy the forces of gravity every two seconds."

"I'm surprised you even know what gravity is, actually," blurted out Hermione. Immediately she regretted her words.

Ron's face turned bitter, but there was no anger there, surprisingly. "That's what you think of me, is it? Just a dimwit?"

"Ron," said Harry bracingly. "She's just joking."

"I don't think you're a dimwit," Hermione assured Ron. "I think you need to have dinner soon because you're just not normal without food in your stomach."

"You're right," said Ron. And he trudged on towards the Changing Rooms.

Hermione and Harry fell behind. "So?" asked Harry, his face revealing his pleasure. "Wasn't it great?"

"Yes, Quidditch practice was excellent today," replied Hermione evenly.

"No...me, pretending to be mad at Ginny!" exclaimed Harry. "And then when I dedicated the Snitch to you!"

"Oh, right," muttered Hermione. She wasn't exactly thrilled with Harry's plan. "Well, I think it went...great!"

Harry's face fell. "Oh no...what went wrong?"

Hermione was hesitant in responding. "Harry...I just think that this isn't the right way to get Ginny. I mean, what if making her angry and jealous only pushes her away from you?"

"Trust me, Hermione, it'll work out. You worry too much," he said, heading towards the Changing Rooms. Hermione decided not to follow him and stood in the cold night, crossing her arms. She had a bad feeling about this entire idea, but Harry was one of her best friends, and she just couldn't let him down. Sighing deeply, she continued towards the castle, her thoughts wandering to Draco...

She distinctly remembered herself around him "last year". It had been – in short – depressing, irritating and frustrating on her part, especially because of her gigantic crush. Memories of the old Hermione, sitting in their dorm by the fire, studying hard, came into her mind...

_"Well, well, well...booky bookworm Granger, all alone."_

_Draco had come striding in through the portrait hole, arrogance emanating from his walk. His collar was turned up, a few open buttons on his shirt showcasing his pectorals, his blond hair mussed, and his signature smirk playing on his lips. Hermione flung a hand into her bushy brown hair, pushing it back behind her ears and swallowing until she regained her breath._

_"Shut up, ferret. I, unlike you, have work to do," she huffed, turning back to her Arithmancy book._

_"Yeah," said Draco sarcastically, walking in front of her and blocking the light from the fire so that she couldn't see her text, "like you really need to work on a Saturday."_

_"As a matter of fact, I do," said Hermione proudly. "I have more important things to do than ogling girls and drinking myself silly on a Saturday night." She stared up at him. "Now get out of my way."_

_"Don't talk to me like that, Mudblood," he hissed. And without further warning, he picked up her Arithmancy book and chucked it across the room. The book's spine broke when it hit the wall, letting a few loose pages fall to the floor._

_Hermione gasped in anger. "HOW DARE YOU!" She stumbled up and ran to the book, fixing it immediately with a murmured spell. Her face was shaking when she got up._

_"You evil, twisted, dreadful, wicked...PRICK!" she yelled, and she ran into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her, her body shaking with tears._

_"Yeah, yeah, Mudblood. Go back to the filth that you came from," he sneered, his voice muffled on the other side of her door. Tears poured down Hermione's cheeks, and she violently wiped them away with the back of her hand as she slid down her door to the ground, her lips quivering to keep the sound of her cry in. _

Hermione sniffled. Her eyes were getting slightly wet as she remembered her other self, as if she was thinking about some long-lost sister. She felt so bad for the old Hermione. Laughing wetly through her tears, she marched back towards the castle, taking big gulps of cold air as she went.

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"What's that?" asked Draco.

Hermione shuffled uncomfortably. She had just walked into their dorm carrying a bunch of materials in her arms; there were bits of lace, yards of olive-colored material, patches of cream silk, black velvet. Draco had been reading a book on the sofa in front of the fire and looked up warily when he saw her enter.

"Oh...it's nothing," replied Hermione, trundling towards her bedroom.

"No, Granger, what are you doing?" insisted Draco.

"Well," muttered Hermione, adjusting her arm and shifting her position, "it's my Halloween costume. I've decided to make it."

"Bloody hell, Granger, it's only fucking Halloween."

"I know," said Hermione, "but the character I'm portraying is really important. To me, especially. And all muggle-borns for that matter." She narrowed her eyes at Draco. "But I wouldn't expect you to understand that."

Draco smirked but didn't say anything.

"What are _you _doing anyways?" asked Hermione. "Are you..._reading_?"

"Yes, Granger, I can read," said Draco sarcastically.

"Yes, but you never read!"

"Says who?"

"Says me!"

Draco cocked his eyebrows. "And you know me very well, is that correct?"

Hermione blushed. "Erm..." she floundered, "well, I'm going to go finish my costume. Halloween's tomorrow so I've only got this afternoon to finish it all..."

"Right," said Draco, his voice dripping with mockery. He turned back to his book as Hermione went into her bedroom.

It was then that a wonderfully sexy idea struck her.

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***NEW THIS WEEK*** vote in the poll on my profile to decide if you want to see draco and hermione's relationship after graduation from Hogwarts! you guys have all the power in this decision, so decide well!!

**A/N:** please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

_**~Veralena**_


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N:** sorry for the wait! now, i just closed the poll, and pretty much everyone wants to see our favorite D+H after graduation from Hoggy Hogwarts. this makes me happy because i've got a TON of ideas for their life afterwards. anyways, in _this _chapter you get to find out people's costumes! however, i'm pretty sure when you find out hermione's, you'll be all "oh god...that is so typical of her". in fact, _all _the costumes are pretty typical of their respective characters...

Sexyness coming up in the next chapter!! This is just the prelude...Enjoy.

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Chapter 9**

October the 31st dawned bright and early. It was Friday, so spirits were high all around the school. Classes were to continue in the normal fashion, with the exception that students were allowed to wear an appropriate costume of their choice, with the emphasis on 'appropriate'. Of course, that night, there was the usual Halloween feast, sure to satisfy any sweet tooth.

It was early in the morning. Hermione had just come out of the shower, blown her hair dry with her wand and had stepped into her finished dress. It had taken lots of hard work, but she had ended up with a positive result. It was a type of old-fashioned, olive-green gown, with a tight lacy corset that accented her bust, three-quarter length sleeves with a trim, and a huge, full skirt with drapes of satin and silk. Hermione arranged her hair in a loose bun, forcing some tendrils around her neck and face to become curly with her wand, and put on her dress, only before realizing that she had put a zipper on the back that she could not reach.

She struggled for a little while...and then she grinned. Perfect.

She could hear water running in Draco's bedroom. Was he taking a shower? Had it been 'last year' and were she the old Hermione, she would have never dared venture into his room. But this year was different. Lifting the hem of her dress, she quietly opened his door and stepped into his bedroom.

It was the complete opposite of hers. Where crimson was the main color scheme for her bedroom, his was a canvas filled with green. His bed had emerald sheets, his walls were shades of jade, and the bedposts and knobs on his drawers were of metal. She walked over to his bed and gazed at his rumpled sheets. Had someone been here last night? Were they both in the bathroom right now? Taking a shower together?

Her insides tightened with that thought, and she immediately backed towards the door. She was just about to leave when –

"Granger?"

Mentally slapping herself, she turned around to face him, and nearly died.

Draco was in a towel and nothing more. He seemed like a vision. Drops of water covered his body like crystals, his chest wide and hard, his washboard abs contracting from his breathing, a thin line of blond hair pointed like an arrow towards his nether regions, which were hidden by a giant white towel he had wrapped around his waist. Water dripped down from his wet hair, plastered to his forehead, and he had his hands on his hips, his arms bulging with muscle, staring at her with those piercing eyes accusingly.

"Granger?" he repeated. A smirk formed on his lips as he watched her, transfixed on his half-nude body, and he looked her over, resting on her chest and then her face.

"Nice," he said.

Hermione snapped out of her reverie. "What? Oh...right...uh...thanks."

He grinned and walked over to his bed, lifting up his shirt. Noticing that she hadn't moved, he turned back towards her.

"Did you need something?" he asked, still with his lips curved upwards.

Hermione tried to ignore his deep voice and looked to the ground. "What? Um...no." She looked up. "Actually, yes." She turned around. "Can you zip me up?"

She closed her eyes, listening intently. Draco was silent for a while, and then stepped over to her quietly. The back of the dress was open, revealing her creamy skin, and she felt a warm, wet hand trailing down her spine slowly. She shuddered; his other hand was searching through the folds of her dress for the zipper. He found it and carefully zipped up the dress, but not before coming closer to her back and leaving a scorching kiss on her neck. She felt his lips smile onto her skin before withdrawing from her.

Her heart was thumping, her chest pounding, and her eyes darting every which way. She turned to face him, and saw that he had already turned away from her and was brushing through his hair with his fingers.

"Uh...see...see you later..." mumbled Hermione, before walking out of his room. She thought she heard him laugh as she left the Common Room.

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Classes were very interesting that day. People had found Halloween to be their one chance at individuality in their uniformed school year. The Great Hall that morning looked like a cross between a fantasy storybook and a horror convention. Most of the boys had dressed up as zombies, skeletons, kings and knights, whereas the girls had found this as an occasion to show off what they couldn't with their uniforms.

The rules had been strict: skin must be covered. However, due to no specifications made, people had found loopholes in order to carry out their costume choices. Tops that were too low-cut had see-through material covering what needed to be covered. Skirts that were so short they were only a hand-width long were accompanied by leggings that were practically transparent. In this way, a teacher's complaint could not function: for the girls had seen to it that their skin was _covered_.

As Hermione passed French maids and fairies, she adjusted her dress. She seemed to have been the only one that had worn a somewhat modest costume, and she felt out of place amidst the nymphs and mermaids. The old Hermione 'last year' had dressed up as the same character, however, she had bought an old dress from Madam Malkin's shop that smelled like mothballs and covered every inch of her body with irritating, itchy fabric. She remembered quite clearly that Pansy Parkinson had walked right by her exclaiming, "_Oh, there she goes...the old nun_." Hermione had been too embarrassed to continue into the Great Hall and had run back to her bedroom in tears. Now, straightening her shoulders, she reached the Gryffindor table for breakfast and found Harry and Ron standing and poking at each other's outfits.

"...but that's so unoriginal!" complained Ron.

"At least I don't look like some stupid angel," said Harry, sitting down. Harry had dressed up in Quidditch robes, but they were not that of Gryffindor. His robes were bright blue and the back had "Dursington" and the number nineteen emblazoned on the back. She supposed he had decided to be some famous Quidditch star that she obviously didn't know.

Ron, on the other hand, had gone and dressed himself up as a white knight from a chess game. He was wearing full white armour, complete with plate mail, plate legs, a shield, boots and a long sword. Only the helmet was lacking, so he had turned his hair white and had painted his face white as well. Hermione contained her laughter, for Ron looked quite a sight and agreed with Harry that Ron looked like a warrior angel.

"Hi guys," she said, sitting down next to them.

"Who're you supposed to be?" asked Ron, looking at her dress. His eyes widened as they landed on her chest, and he cleared his throat, looking away.

"Astra Moriarty," she said.

"Huh?" asked Harry.

"Honestly, haven't you two ever opened _Hogwarts: A History_?"

"Hermione," said Ron, "do you really have to ask?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Astra Moriarty was the first person at Hogwarts to create a Muggle Studies class! She started it all...and we have the class at Hogwarts ever since!"

Ron and Harry just stared back at her.

"That's great, Hermione," said Harry kindly.

"Thank you, Harry," she said graciously, glaring pointedly at Ron. Just then, Ginny appeared. She went to sit at the table, then noticing the three of them, moved away several seats and sat down.

"Oh dear..." moanedHermione.

"It'll work," said Harry in an undertone as Ron sat down with some difficulty and attacked his eggs. "Trust me."

"You say that all the time, Harry, but why do I get this feeling that it's just going to backfire on you?"

"What's going to backfire?" asked Ron suddenly.

Hermione sighed, turning away from Harry and starting on her porridge. "Nothing, Ron, nothing."

Transfiguration was a bit of a frightening affair, as Professor McGonagall spent nearly thirty minutes lecturing her seventh-year Gryffindors about proper dress and maintaining a certain level of modesty. She walked around the classroom, examining their costumes and handing out detentions, after which the class grumbled and started their in-class essay about the transformation of rats to flower baskets.

Herbology was difficult. The greenhouses were simply not meant for thirty people with space-consuming costumes and hundreds of dangerous plants. People that had dressed up as pumpkins or cauldrons were having a hard time maneuvering around the tiny space, trying to avoid the Venomous Tentaculas or Mandrakes. People were also complaining about Ron's costume, because every time they brushed against him, white powder would come off and settle onto their own outfits. Hermione was obliged to put a charm on Ron so that the powder would stay on him.

When Snape showed up for Potions, the students almost laughed at his expression. He seemed to be fighting with himself about staying in his own class or leaving. His eyes were looking anywhere but at his costumed students, and especially at some of the girls' outfits.

Hermione spotted Draco walking towards her, and gulped, remembering her plans for tonight. She shuddered, pushing that thought out of her mind for now.

"I forgot to ask this morning," said Draco to Hermione as the students filed in. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"Astra Moriarty. The witch who created Muggle Studies at Hogwarts," she replied.

Draco smirked. "Really, Granger? _Muggle Studies_?"

Hermione turned her head away from him. "Leave it, Malfoy. I don't need another one of your stupid comments. Who are you supposed to be, anyway?"

Draco inhaled. "The famous French vampire – Antoine LeSang."

"The one who killed eighty-three girls?" asked Hermione, lifting her eyebrows. Draco was wearing an ordinary black cloak, except that the collars were turned up, and the inside of the cloak was blood-red. He had gelled his hair back flat on his head, exposing his widow's peak, and he indeed looked like a beautiful, blond, tormented vampire.

"That's right," he answered, grinning. "But he didn't exactly kill them, did he?"

"No, of course not..." said Hermione mockingly. "He _only_ turned eighty-three girls into vampires."

"Want to become a vampire, Granger?" he asked, his eyes glinting. "I could bite you right now..."

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy," she said, walking away to Harry and Ron's table.

Potions passed quickly. Snape set them an easy potion, perhaps to rid of them as fast as possible, and Hermione helped Harry and Ron with theirs so that they could all leave. Snape dismissed them before the bell had rung and stomped away to the corner of the classroom while everyone filed out.

"Finally, time to eat," said Ron excitedly. He licked his lips and then spat on the ground, tasting his own white powder. "Blech!"

Harry and Hermione laughed loudly, pushing him onwards. The three of them made their way to the Halloween feast in the Great Hall and were, yet again, amazed to find it hauntingly decorated and the food sumptuously prepared. Dumbledore had not bothered in waiting for the students to first be seated but had let the food appear beforehand. However, as everyone sat down and started tucking in, he clapped his hands once, and silence fell.

"Welcome, students, to the Halloween feast. I hope you are all desperately anxious to begin eating the wonderful food lying in front of you. Mr. Filch would like to stress that no Banging Boxes and Pumpkin Pods are to be thrown in the corridors, for Mrs. Norris is sensitive to burning smells. Thank you, and enjoy the feast!" He nodded his head, his silvery beard shining in the dim candlelight, and clapped his hand again to signal everyone to start eating.

Ron dug in immediately, and Hermione looked around at the Hall. There were the usual floating candles, but they were black candles this time, with a sort of eerie red flame emanating from them. Jack-o-lanterns were hopping around in midair amidst the ghosts that were drifting around over the tables.

"Thank goodness I still have a head," said Nearly Headless Nick, who had glided towards Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Why's that?" asked Harry.

"Look at those poor souls," said Nick, pointing towards the giant red apples in the center of the table with gruesome faces carved into them.

"Uh...those are apples, Nick," said Ron, looking up from his tart.

"Do not underestimate my intelligence!" exclaimed Nick, his head wobbling. "I may be dead, but I am still capable of – ah!" And he drifted away as soon as he saw the Bloody Baron stare at him haughtily from the Slytherin table.

The three of them laughed and went back to eating. Once the desserts had finally disappeared from the hundreds of golden plates, the students began milling back towards their dormitories. Hermione lifted her skirt and made her way up the staircase, taking care not to trip. She had a long way back to her Common Room...

*

*

*

"How's the bet going?" asked Blaise.

"What do you mean?" said Draco, shifting his glance towards crowds of students moving out of the Great Hall. Blaise rolled his eyes. He had dressed up as Don Juan, a simple, loose, white shirt open to reveal his hard, dark chest, and black pants. A black mask was hanging around his neck.

"I mean...have you done her yet?" asked Blaise, rolling his eyes.

Draco frowned at a third-year in front of him. "Move it or I'll report you!"

"Why aren't you answering me?" asked Blaise as the third-year scurried away.

"Answering what?" asked Draco.

"What's your problem? You're evading all my questions! I asked you if you've banged Hermione Granger yet or not!"

"No, okay! I haven't!"

Blaise drew back, surprised. It was not like his best friend to avoid questions, especially about girls, and he had never known Draco to shy away from revealing his latest conquests.

"I have to go," said Draco, looking away and heading towards the staircase. "See you later."

Blaise stood there, confused. "Bye."

*

*

*

_This is__ it_, thought Hermione. This was her chance. She had to prove him wrong. And she knew she would have fun along the way.

Hermione had reached her bedroom and had shut the door behind her. Her body was tingling with anticipation and nervousness. She had never done anything like this before, and she wondered if she could pull it off. She had no experience whatsoever, but this was the new her. She could do it.

She pulled off her dress and stood naked in front of the mirror, grabbing the lotion off her dresser and smoothing it onto her body. She then opened the drawers and extracted a dark green set of underwear. The bra pushed her breasts upwards, creating a shadowy crevice near her cleavage, and the panties were small and lacy. Hermione went over to the mirror again and shook her hair out, using her wand again to make her hair fall in loose curls. She was just about to open her tube of lip gloss when she heard the portrait door bang shut.

Her insides tightened and her heart started pounding. _He was here_.

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**A/N:** please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

_**~Veralena**_


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: **sexyness, as promised!

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Chapter 10**

Hermione took a deep breath, shook out her hair again and opened the door.

Draco was standing in front of the fire, and when he heard the door bang open, he turned around. His jaw dropped.

Hermione smiled triumphantly. She took one step towards him.

"Hey, Malfoy," she said in a sexy voice. Her heart was still pounding; was her voice sexy enough?

Draco just stood there in his Antoine LeSang costume. He had taken off the cape and threw it on the sofa, revealing his black shirt and matching black pants. His hair was still combed back, although a few strands had begun to come out of place and were now lying on his forehead. His eyes had grown round as he watched Hermione in the hottest outfit he had ever seen, striking a modellesque pose in front of him.

"Uh," muttered Draco, slightly confused but enjoying the view.

Hermione sauntered towards him slowly, swaying her hips seductively. She watched him staring at her breasts spilling out of her green bra, down to her flat, tanned stomach and moving all the way over her naked thighs and legs. His eyes snapped back to her face; she was standing right in front of him.

"What's wrong, Malfoy? Cat got your tongue?" asked Hermione teasingly, following the question by licking her lips very slowly.

Draco shook his head slowly, his eyes still wide as he watched her.

"I'm fine, Granger," he said after clearing his throat. Some of his old arrogance came back, but it was much softer, almost dimmed. Hermione reached up and trailed a finger down his neck, stopping at the buttons of his shirt. Slowly, she undid them one by one, coming closer to him. His nose was near her temples, and she heard him breathe in, smelling her vanilla scent. The intimate position was sexy enough for Hermione to blush. She avoided looking into his eyes, for she knew if she did, she wouldn't be able to go on. She focused instead on his shirt buttons, unbuttoning the last one to reveal his hard, chiseled chest. She breathed in.

"Like what you see?" asked Draco with a smirk. _I can't let him get the upper hand_, thought Hermione.

"It's all right," she said, shrugging, "...for a Slytherin," she added with a hint of malice. Her expression was victorious as she watched his eyes round with shock. She eased his shirt off his shoulders and, trying not to hyperventilate, trailed her fingers down his chest and his abs. It was like touching smooth stone; warm to the touch, and soft, but she could feel the muscle rippling behind the skin.

She raised her head, placing her lips on his neck. She could feel his jugular vein pulsing underneath the pale skin. She slowly protruded her tongue, licking a slow trail down his chest, biting his nipples, kissing the trail of blond hair that pointed downwards. Standing straight again, she looked at him. He was still staring at her, but now he seemed to be in the mood. His eyes had darkened, and his breathing sounded uneven. He pulled her body towards him, but she stepped away, pulling him in front of the fire.

Hermione took one of his large hands in both of hers, and, gazing steadily into his eyes, she placed it on her collarbone. His eyes were greedy as he smoothed his hand over her neck, over her beating heart, and onto her right breast. He felt the skin, squeezed her through the bra. Hermione was breathing heavily, and her eyes were closing, but she snapped them open again. _She_ was going to be in control.

Draco pulled his hand away, reaching towards her to pull her to him. She allowed it, pressing her soft body against his hard one. The feel of his body was so wonderful, so perfect, that she almost couldn't resist gazing up into his silver eyes and touching his face, but she didn't. She was surprised when his eyes closed and he leaned in to kiss her, but she reluctantly pushed him away.

Draco's eyes opened in astonishment. His arms were stretched towards her, but Hermione was fighting with herself not to go back there.

"Not today, Malfoy," she purred. "Sit down."

Draco lowered himself onto the couch, settling in. Reminiscent of the day she had taken the Dereservation Potion, although with considerably less clothes, she straddled him, sitting on his lap. Draco's smirk returned, and he put his hands on her hips, pressing his fingers into her skin.

Hermione leaned forwards, bringing her chest incredibly close to his face; just as he was about to touch his lips to her body, she leaned back, arching her body backwards. He placed his hands higher on her back, supporting her as she went in the opposite direction, and he watched her beautiful body stretching before him.

Leaning back towards him, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, and began to grind her hips to his. She could feel his manhood pressing hard against her, and this only spurred her to go on, grinding in circles and back and forth...

His hands pressed against her ass, squeezing her through the green material. She allowed him to touch her neck this time, and he kissed her skin, licking down to her breasts, burying his face in her cleavage.

"Oh...Draco..." she moaned, the warmth in her lower body increasing as she felt his kisses and his erection pressing urgently against her.

He looked up.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"You called me Draco," he said, his face red but questioning.

Hermione blushed. "So I did."

Draco smiled, quite a different smile this time, from his usual smirks. There was no arrogance behind it. He bent down again and moved his hands onto her chest again.

Hermione stopped herself from moaning this time, and withdrew one of her hands from around his neck. She casually trailed it down his chest until she reached his belt buckle.

"What are you doing?" asked Draco, immediately looking up from Hermione's chest.

Hermione leaned into his ear, smiling. "Shut up, ferret."

She undid his belt buckle and pulled down his zipper. Her hands were shaking but she forced herself to calm down and ignore the compressing feeling in her stomach. She was blushing like mad, and was trying to focus on her task and not on Draco's light kisses on her shoulder.

She had never done this before. Plunging her hand into Draco's silk boxers, she placed her fingers on his shaft. She heard him take a sharp intake of breath; carefully, she stroked him, slowly at first.

Hermione leaned back to watch Draco's face as she worked on him. His eyes were closed; his pale eyelashes hovered just above his bottom lid. His thin mouth was slightly open, emitting groans so deep that she could barely hear them. Platinum blond hair lay messily all over his forehead. She took her other hand and smoothed his hair back over his head, amazed that she had so much power over him. This was_ the_ Draco Malfoy she was giving a hand job to. It was overwhelming.

* * *

Draco groaned. She worked her hands over his long shaft, increasing the pressure, playing with the head, teasing his balls, stroking hard then soft. It felt fucking amazing. To have her soft body on his was one thing, but to have her warm hands on his manhood was unbelievable. This was Hermione Granger, the nerd, the know-it-all...and now she was the sexiest person alive, in his opinion.

He had thought he'd gotten brain damage when he saw her come out of her bedroom in her hot underwear. He'd noticed that it was green...was she trying to say something? Her loose hair looked so soft and touchable, he'd noticed she'd curled it again...he liked it better that way...

And here she was giving him the best hand job ever. He'd have never thought Hermione Granger would have done this. Did this mean she'd fallen for him? His eyes were closed. Her hands were so soft...and yet she was pressing so hard on him. It felt so good...he was about to –

Suddenly everything was gone. He opened his eyes to see the crackling fire in front of him, no Hermione in sight. His pants were open and his dick was out. Huh?

He turned around to see Hermione's beautifully round ass sauntering away towards her bedroom, her head thrown back in laughter. The door slammed shut behind her.

"Aw, Granger...What the fuck?"

***

She heard him cursing through the door and almost peed herself laughing. It had taken every tiny ounce of effort in her body to step away from him, but it had been worth it just for this. Once her giggles subsided, she leaned in close to the door again. She heard the creak of the couch, meaning he had gotten up. She heard the quick zip of his pants and him walking over to his bedroom, possibly to finish off what she had started.

"Damnit, Granger," he said, knowing she was listening. "You'll pay for this."

*

*

*

"Reckon the Giant Squid would take a fancy to me?" asked Ron miserably.

"Why on earth would the Giant Squid fancy you?" questioned Harry, cocking his eyebrows.

Ron sighed, looking down at his feet. "No one will ever fancy me..."

"Nonsense," said Hermione. "Lav-lav couldn't get enough of you last year, remember?"

"Yeah...but, it's not the same..."

The three of them were sitting outside by the Great Lake. Hermione had learned a very useful piece of magic from the library that allowed her to transport a sphere of warmth around her; their cold November day had therefore turned into a warm, summer's day. It was hot in the sphere that encompassed Harry, Ron and Hermione; she had modified the sphere to make it bigger. It was a nice day nevertheless, but it was still cold. The trees in the Forbidden Forest were swaying lightly in the wind, and the sun beat down on the grounds and on the lake, making it sparkle and shine. Their favorite beech tree gave them plentiful shade; Harry had rolled up his pants and stuck his feet in the water, Hermione was lying on her stomach with Harry's sweater for cushioning, and Ron was sitting next to them with his arm resting on his upraised leg. It was a Saturday, and they had nothing to do but waste time.

"Ron," said Harry, "you've already had a girlfriend. She obviously would not have gone out with you if she didn't fancy you, mate."

Ron didn't appear to be listening. "Why can I never get the girls that I actually _want_?" And he looked up at Hermione. She blushed.

"I'm positively sure you'll meet someone, Ron," she said, looking out towards the lake to avoid his gaze. "Don't worry."

There was peaceful silence for some time. Ron was ripping grass off the ground and throwing it into the lake, and Harry had taken a twig and was waving it in the water.

"How's Quidditch practice coming along?" asked Hermione. She had not visited the Quidditch field since the first Gryffindor practice, unwilling to again face an angry Ginny. Harry's plan with Ginny seemed to be working, theoretically. He had indeed gotten a rise out of her...the spark had come back. However, it was out of anger and revulsion, and she was definitely not going to talk to Harry about it anytime soon. When Hermione had voiced this thought to Harry, he had simply brushed her off and hurried down to the Great Hall. Hermione felt better when she didn't have to endure yet another painful Quidditch practice.

"It's going great!" said Ron enthusiastically, seemingly much more cheerful now that they were no longer on the topic of Ron's scant love life.

"Really?" said Hermione, mildly surprised. Ron usually complained about Quidditch practices.

"Yeah!" he said, "Last Thursday I did this really cool thing where Demelza shot the Quaffle towards the right hoop and I caught it while doing this spin all the way over from the left hoop...it was wicked..."

And a dreamy look came over his face.

Harry and Hermione laughed. "It's true," said Harry, still snorting, "it was a really cool move."

"Do you think you'll be ready for the match?" asked Hermione, shooing away a bug in front of her face. The match was scheduled to be in two weeks.

"I hope so," said Harry. "We have to win this one to get a good head start on our points if we want to win the Cup."

"Imagine Snape's face," said Ron, grinning.

Harry laughed. "He'd hide behind his greasy curtain."

"To hide the tears," said Hermione, laughing as well.

They looked out onto the lake for a while longer. A few big bubbles appeared in the center of the water, then disappeared.

"Looks like the Giant Squid heard your prayers, Ron," said Harry.

"Great," replied Ron sarcastically. "Maybe I'll take it as my date to Romilda's party." His face suddenly cleared. "Hey, reckon Romilda'll try to slip me a love potion again?"

"That was meant for Harry, not you," chided Hermione, "and it's a terribly dangerous thing to give someone a love potion!"

"Do we need dates for Romilda's party?" asked Harry.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"You know," mused Ron, "Romilda's quite nice-looking."

"I know," replied Harry fervently. "I like her hair...and her eyes...and her body is just -,"

"_Please_," interrupted Hermione, "don't forget that I'm still here!"

"Oh, right," said Harry.

"Sorry, Hermione," sniggered Ron. "Didn't know you were so jealous."

"I'm not!" cried out Hermione indignantly.

Ron started grinning. "So...what if I _did_ take a date to Romilda's party?"

And he stretched back, flexing his arms so that the veins in his forearms bulged, and widened his chest. Hermione giggled.

"Don't think so Ron," said Hermione.

Ron shook his head so that his ginger hair came in front of his eyes. Then, adopting a 'cool' face, he looked at Hermione through his hair.

"Don't think what?" he asked.

Hermione couldn't contain herself. She burst out laughing.

"I don't think anyone's going to be taking dates, Ron," she giggled.

Ron looked at Hermione's face, then at Harry, who was also laughing. Ron deflated, although he was still smiling.

"Yeah...oh well..."

The three of them lingered under the shade of the beech tree a little longer, then Hermione muttered '_Finite Incantatem'_, vanishing the sphere of warmth, so that the three of them could return to the castle.

And somewhere high up in a tower, a pair of eyes watched their every move.

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**A/N:** please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update! **review review review!**

**_~Veralena_**


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: noticed a certain lag in reviews...come on guys, i know u can do better! anyways, here's a quicker update, since i'll be out of town for a few days. enjoy!

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Chapter 11**

The days of November swept by in torrential cold rains and windy storms. The trees were soon denuded, and the Great Lake was starting to become blacker to match the skies. November was going to be filled with goodies, however, as there was the first Quidditch match of the season and also Romilda's party, the invites of which had apparently now been extended to nearly every student in fifth year and above. The Slytherins had, of course, not been invited, and practically all of Gryffindor house was attending, so the party was going to be more like a giant gathering of people.

During the week of her party, Romilda was seen scurrying around the school with a crowd of friends holding clipboards and quills, following Romilda quickly and jotting down her words. She was often heard discussing balloons, cakes, locations and other paraphernalia, making it sound like she was organizing an enormous wedding. Most of Gryffindor house had learned to leave the Common Room when they saw Romilda entering; her party discussions were so loud that they could never have any peace.

Indeed, by Friday, expectations were so high that students had taken to discussing the party even in class, to which the teachers highly objected.

"I will _not_ have students discuss useless gatherings in my class," hissed Snape, breathing through his crooked nose and staring down at the seventh-years. "Detention, Mr. Weasley!" he called out, suddenly turning to face the other side of the class.

"But I wasn't even talking about the party!" protested Ron indignantly.

Snape sat down at his chair. "You dare speak without raising your hand?"

"Yeah, 'cause I don't deserve detention!"

The whole class was staring at him now. Everyone except the Slytherins appeared to have expressions of admiration for Ron.

"You will serve your detention next Thursday," sneered Snape.

Harry stood up. "But that's the day before the match! We need to practice and we need our Keeper!"

"Double detention!" called out Snape, folding his arms triumphantly.

Harry was about to open his mouth but Hermione laid a hand on his arm. "Don't," she pleaded. "It'll only make it worse."

Thoroughly depressed, Harry and Ron trudged over to the Great Hall after class, while Hermione tried cheering them up.

"You two have practiced a lot! You don't need more time..."

"Yeah," said Harry," but I'm the Captain!"

"And I'm the Keeper!" added Ron.

Hermione patted their backs. "Don't worry. You're lucky Snape didn't give you a detention on the day of the match. You'll both do fine."

After dinner, Hermione made her way back up to her dorm. It had been a long, tiring day, first dealing with Tiger Tentaculas in Herbology and then Rats-to-Bats in Transfiguration. She muttered the password to the portrait and walked in, only to see that Draco was sitting on the couch waxing his broom.

Ever since _that night_, Hermione and Draco had avoided talking to each other. It wasn't exactly a bad thing; they would still smirk at each other when they passed in the corridors or in their Common Room, and Hermione was sure that a few times she heard her name whispered between Draco and Blaise in Potions. They weren't talking, but they weren't being mean about it. They just seemed to avoid bringing up _that night_.

It was therefore a surprise to her when Draco spoke.

"Hey, Granger," he said easily in his deep voice. He looked up at her. He was wearing his usual outfit: white shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, loose Slytherin tie, black pants. His hair looked wet – he had probably been outside. Hermione pushed back her own long, straight hair. Her uniform always felt non-existent every time Draco looked at her. It was as if his piercing eyes could somehow penetrate her clothes. Her white shirt felt tight, and her crimson skirt too short. Hermione looked away, and then back again at him through her lashes.

"Oh...he speaks," she joked, sitting down on the chair opposite him.

"What are you talking about?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Nothing, Malfoy. Maybe it's just the fact that you haven't spoken to me in a week."

He stiffened, then relaxed again, resuming the polishing of his broom which was floating in mid-air. He dipped a rag in the little container of wax and began on the handle.

"That looks _really_ wrong," said Hermione.

Draco stopped, then burst out laughing. He leaned his head back on the sofa until his chuckles subsided.

"Yeah, you would know all about it, wouldn't you?" he said, looking at Hermione who was also laughing.

"What?"

"Come on, Granger. That was some really nice work you did last week."

Hermione blushed, leaning back in her chair.

"You know, you owe me ten galleons," she said.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "For what?"

"The bet, Malfoy! I won!" said Hermione victoriously.

Draco collapsed onto the sofa again. "Oh...that's why..."

"Yes, you dimwit," grinned Hermione, "that's why."

Draco's head perked up. "You're evil, you know."

Hermione smiled. "Oh, I know."

"Twisted."

"Yes."

"Malicious."

"Uh huh."

"Sinful," finished Draco.

Hermione's pouted her lips. "Oh, that I am..."

Their gazes locked; his piercing silvery eyes stared straight into her chocolatey brown ones. They both had hints of a smirk on their faces, as if they could tell what the other was thinking. A sort of fiery net had been cast over them, causing them to want each other to pieces. Draco's lip twitched; he was thinking better of saying anything. Hermione finally broke the silence.

"Pay up, Malfoy," she said, her throat raspy.

Without a word, he reached into his back pocket and extracted the coins, handing them to her. Their hands touched, and a burst of electricity sprung through them. Hermione withdrew, pocketing the ten galleons.

"So you admit it," she murmured.

"Admit what?

"I _am_ seductive."

Draco smirked, taking out his wand and performing a spell on the rag to clean it. He shut the wax container and touched his broom, causing it to fall out of its mid-air state. He leaned the broom onto the sofa and inclined back on his arms before replying.

"You're all right..."he said, his smirk still on his lips, "...for a Gryffindor."

Hermione opened her mouth in mock indignation. Draco grinned at the expression on her face and then stood up, picking up his broom.

"Isn't there that stupid party tomorrow?" he asked, stretching his arms wide and yawning.

"Yes," replied Hermione, also standing up. She walked over to her door. "It's at seven."

"Oh, good...then I can sleep in," he said, opening his door.

"Don't count on me to wake you up," warned Hermione.

Draco cocked his eyebrows. "And why would I need _you_, Granger? Georgina is coming over tonight," he said, his eyes glinting.

Hermione huffed. "Oh...well then...good night." And she slammed the door behind her.

*

*

*

Hermione tossed and turned. It was three in the morning and she could barely sleep. There were no noises coming from Draco's bedroom, but just the fact that he was sleeping with another girl made her restless. She didn't know why it was bothering her so much...it hadn't bothered her on the first night...why now?

She'd had a feeling that perhaps he'd felt something _that night_...but no...she was wrong.

He'd tried to kiss her...did that mean anything? The familiarity between them was increasing every day. She had grown so used to waking up in the morning and having Draco being the first face she'd see. They would sometimes do their homework in the Common Room, sitting a few feet apart, in complete silence.

Did those days count for nothing? She had been an idiot to believe that he'd changed. He was still that playboy...

Hermione battled with herself. On the one hand she wanted to hear the noises from their room, to set herself straight. Maybe she should just forget about it. Move on from him. But on the other hand she thanked Merlin that she couldn't hear a single noise coming from Draco's room. Perhaps they were done and were sleeping peacefully. What had he said her name was again? Oh, right...Georgina. _She sounds like a bitch_, thought Hermione.

Oh, Merlin, what was wrong with her? Now she was passing judgement on people without even knowing them. Hermione grabbed her wand off the nightstand, cast a sleeping charm on herself, and settled into her pillow. The last thought that was in her mind before she dozed off was about Draco.

*

*

*

Hermione jumped awake. Sitting straight in her bed, she gasped in deep breaths. Sunlight was pouring into her bedroom. She looked over at the grandfather clock in the corner of her bedroom. It was one o'clock in the afternoon. Perhaps the sleeping charm she'd cast had been just a little bit too strong.

She'd had a dream...a terrible dream. She'd become the old Hermione again, nerdy, frumpy, frizzy-haired, bookworm, know-it-all Hermione. She was singing Christmas carols with her family, but she was at Hogwarts. And suddenly she was running...running...faster and faster... until she saw Draco. And he cast a spell on her...and she died. The old Hermione died. She was dead.

Hermione leaned back on her pillows, wiping away the moisture in her eyes. The dream had seemed so real, she'd felt as though she was there, watching it all. Even though she'd had a full night's sleep, she felt exhausted. But her sheets felt dirty, her room felt like it was mocking her...taunting her..._why did you do it, Hermione_? it seemed to be saying. _Why did you come back?_

She got up, wrapping herself in her white robe, and she opened the door. She could hear water running in Draco's room. She took off her slippers and curled onto the sofa in front of the fireplace. Unable to see through her bleary eyes, she took one of the pillows and hugged them, and promptly fell asleep again.

*

*

*

"Granger...?"

Someone was prodding her awake. Hermione fluttered her eyelashes, slowly opening her eyes to see Draco's heavenly face gazing steadily down at her. Hermione rubbed her eyes.

"You okay?" said Draco, his hand still on her arm.

"Hm?" Hermione opened her eyes fully now, taking him in. His face looked worried; his shirt was completely open, revealing his chest, and he smelled of enticing cologne. "Yeah...why shouldn't I be okay?"

"Well...you've slept all day. I thought maybe you were sick or something..."he trailed off, looking at the expression on Hermione's face.

She was surprised, to say the least, at his concern. She was touched, and had she not just woken up, she would have been hyperventilating.

"No..."she started, "no...not sick. Just...tired, that's all."

"Well, we have a party to go to," said Draco.

"What?" Hermione sat up on the sofa. "What time is it?"

"It's half past six."

"I slept that long?!"

Draco grinned. "Yeah, you did."

"Oh, no...why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

Draco stood up, helping Hermione up from the couch as well. "I just came in...I was in the Slytherin Common Room."

"Oh..." Hermione drifted off. She suddenly remembered last night...and she stiffened, removing her hand from Draco's grasp. "Had a good time with Georgina, then?" she said bitterly, looking away from his face.

Draco was quiet for a moment before replying. "No, actually. I haven't had anyone visit...in a while," he ended, almost whispering.

Hermione, still turned away, couldn't help a small smile come to her lips. So she had been wrong. Maybe there was still a chance...

"Now come on," said Draco, grabbing her arm, "you have to drag me to this party, remember?"

* * *

**A/N:** please continue **reviewing**! it really gives me inspiration to keep writing!

_**~Veralena**_


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Hurry up, Granger," called Draco from his room.

"Since when are _you_ so excited to go to a party?" shouted Hermione from her own room, smacking her lips with gloss. She had opted to wear a short skirt, boots, and a pretty white blouse, and was almost done. Sticking her wand down her right boot, for she had no other place to put it, she walked over to Draco's room. They had wordlessly decided to go back to normal and chuck all emotions out the door. And why not? After a full day's sleep, and more, Hermione was pumped and excited for the party.

"I'm not _excited_, Granger," said Draco, lowering his voice when he noticed she had come into his room. He was in the midst of fixing his hair, and he was wearing a black jacket, jeans and a white t-shirt. When he saw her reflection in his mirror, his eyes grew wide for a moment.

"Nice," he commented.

"Thanks, ferret" replied Hermione, walking over to him. "Now, come on!" And, grabbing his jacket, she pulled him towards the door.

"Aw, Granger!" he protested, "Here I was being all nice to you, and you had to call me ferret!"

Hermione let go of him, grinning. "Oh, but you _are_ a ferret."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Want me to call you a mud -?,"

"NO!"

"Then don't call me ferret."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Fine. Now let's go."

They made their way down the many staircases; passing portraits, statues, tapestries and students. Once outside, they walked all the way down to the entrance to Hogwarts, passing Hagrid's hut and the Forbidden Forest.

"Here come the Dementors," Draco whispered spookily.

"Oh, shut up!" said Hermione, hitting Draco hard on the arm as he laughed. "I can't deal with Dementors...Harry never taught me."

"You need prissy Potter to teach you how to deal with Dementors?" asked Draco, cocking his eyebrows. "I can teach you. It's easy."

"And who did _you_ learn it from?"

Draco looked away shiftily. "Classified information," he said, his lips twitching. He looked at her as they walked on under the starry night sky. "I can teach you right now. Or any night, for that matter..."

Hermione turned to look at him and saw that he was smirking. Perhaps it was the cold night air, or his piercing gaze, but the hairs on the back of her neck were standing, and her arms were suddenly covered in goosebumps. Hermione turned away from him and they kept walking down the steep slope.

When they reached Hogsmeade, they saw that it was crawling with students. Lanterns on strings were draped across buildings, making the village appear festive. It seemed like a normal Hogsmeade trip, except at night. All the lights in the stores were lit, and students were wandering around, chatting to friends, laughing at something in the center of the village square. Draco and Hermione walked over to see through the crowd surrounding it, and saw that it was in fact a clown whose nametag said 'Lord Polka'. Attired in a red and yellow suit, he was making sparks fly out of the top of his head and bouncing a frog on his knee that croaked every time it was thrown into the air. He was also singing a rather dirty song –

_I saw her lift her skirt_

_All alone in the loo_

_So I couldn't help myself_

_And I shagged her too!_

Most of the crowd surrounding him were sixth and seventh-year guys, and they were laughing raucously at Lord Polka's song. Draco and Hermione walked away.

"What kind of a party is this?" exclaimed Hermione, outraged at the dirty song.

Draco shrugged. "I'm kind of doubting this now...Maybe I should go back to the castle..."

Hermione turned to face him. "Why? What's wrong?"

Draco looked subdued. "Haven't you noticed that there aren't any Slytherins here? I'll look like an idiot hanging out with a bunch of Gryffindors."

Hermione frowned. "Oh come on, Malfoy, no one's going to think you're an idiot."

"None of my friends are here!"

"I'll hang out with you," said Hermione, blushing as she said it. Draco gave her a furtive glance.

"Come on, Malfoy...Romilda invited you personally, remember?" she added, grinning.

"Oh god, don't remind me..." he moaned, shoving his hands into his pockets and following Hermione into the Three Broomsticks.

They were greeted loudly by practically the entire stock of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes: mini Wildfire Whiz-Bangs were exploding all over the place, Fanged Frisbees were flying in wide angles, snipping people's hair, enchanted balloons that moved in patterns were waving around, confetti was falling everywhere, and the tables were heaped with hundreds of sweets: Canary Creams and Acid Pops, Fizzing Whizbees and Chocoballs, Peppermint Toads and Cockroach Clusters, Ice Mice and Chocolate Frogs. There was pumpkin juice, mead and butterbeer in jugs and bottles everywhere, and so were cakes, cookies and pies. People were packed inside the pub, yelling over each other, calling out to people across the room. It felt claustrophobic.

"Uh...hahaha, excuse me everyone!" called out Romilda, emerging out of the crowd by standing on a table. She was wearing a silky pink dress and a lopsided tiara, holding a bottle of butterbeer in her hand. She laughed drunkenly.

"Wow," whispered Hermione to Draco, "the night's only just started."

"Guys! Guys, shut up!" giggled Romilda. The pub quieted down a little bit.

"I juuust wanted to fank...I mean, thank my Daaaddy for paying for aaaaall of this," said Romilda, teetering on her five-inch heels and gesturing wildly at everyone. "And since we have the pub aaaaaall night, LET'S FUCKIN' PAAARTY!"

Everyone cheered, jumping wildly and sloshing drinks all over everyone. Hermione stood on tiptoe and spotted Harry and Ron on the other side of the pub.

"I'm going to go say hi to-,"

"I know," interrupted Draco. "I'll see you later," he said, slouching off. Hermione watched his retreating back, then thrust herself into the crowd, pushing and shoving people to get across the room. She burst onto the other side of the throng, right in front of Harry and Ron.

"Hi guys!" she said brightly. Harry was wearing a black shirt and jeans, and Ron had opted for a grey sweater vest on top of a white t-shirt.

"You guys look good!" said Hermione, grabbing a bottle of butterbeer from the table behind them. Harry took a sip from his mead.

"Thanks, so do you," he said. Harry gave her a brief smile and then looked past her right shoulder. She followed his gaze to see Ginny talking animatedly with Dean. The sound of Ron's voice made her turn.

"So...you brought _Malfoy_ as a date."

Hermione frowned at Ron, adopting an 'I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about' expression, but could not stop the blush creeping up her cheeks.

"He is not my date," muttered Hermione, taking a large swig from her butterbeer to avoid looking at Ron's accusing face. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Oh, yeah? Then why'd you show up together? I saw you..." he trailed off, his face looking dangerous. Hermione stepped back, but Ron did nothing but guzzle down his mead.

"Exactly how strong is that stuff?" Hermione whispered to Harry; Ron did not seem to be listening but was looking somberly at everyone.

Harry made a worried face. "Usually it's not that strong...but Romilda's friends have added a bunch of illegal potions to all the drinks...so they're super-strong."

"Oh perfect," said Hermione weakly. "How exactly did _you_ find that out?"

Harry grinned. "Heard Luna bumbling on about it as she went crashing into a closet upstairs...with Neville."

"No!" exclaimed Hermione, laughing.

"Yeah," confirmed Harry, chuckling as well, "never would have thought..."

Hermione hung around with Harry for a while longer, seeing as Ron wouldn't talk to her. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, having drinks, eating food and yelling at each other excitedly. Hermione looked around for Draco a few times but saw him nowhere; she wondered where he had disappeared to.

"I'm just going to step out for a while," said Hermione to Harry. "Get away from the crowd..."

Harry nodded, taking a sip from his drink. Hermione braced herself again and threw herself into the throng of people, pushing and shoving her way to the entrance. She horribly felt other people as she went, cringing as she felt boobs, erections and hands groping her rudely.

Disgusted, Hermione walked out of the pub into the dark night, and was immediately struck by the coolness of the air. There was no one outside – it seemed like everyone had gone into the pub or somewhere else. The stores were still lit, but they were vacant. The stars shone brightly on the navy blue sky, and the crescent moon was iridescent, like a beacon. She crossed her arms, shivering slightly, and suddenly noticed something shining on the other side of the street; it was Draco, leaning against a dilapidated wall with an old sign hanging upon it, his platinum blond hair bright because of the streetlamp a few feet away.

Hermione walked towards him, a small smile starting to grow on her lips. The smell of cigarette smoke assailed her; she saw the stick in between his fingers. He was looking down, his other hand in his pockets. When he heard her footsteps on the cobbled street, he looked up, smirking.

"I didn't know you smoked," said Hermione.

He was quiet before answering. "Only on special occasions."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "And this is a special occasion?"

The roguish smile on his face grew as he looked at her. "It is now."

She couldn't help the heat rising in her cheeks. She looked down at the ground shyly, then gazed back up at him through her lashes.

"It's bad for you, you know," she said, nodding her head at the cigarette in his hand.

"So are you, for me."

Hermione looked at him confusedly, not sure whether to take offense, but saw that his face was different – it was soft, serious. She hadn't noticed the stubble growing on his cheeks – his hair was blond, after all – he looked tired, like he hadn't slept properly. His eyes showed some emotion that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Silence reigned momentarily. Draco looked at his shoes.

"I can't explain it," he said, his voice sounding constricted. "You...changed me." He looked up at her again. "When you're around, I'm not Draco Malfoy, King of Slytherin."

He spat out the nickname, surprising Hermione. She remembered how he had earlier said the name with pride.

He took a drag from his cigarette. "I've turned into...someone I don't know. I don't know who it is...don't know how to deal with it."

Hermione's heart was thumping so loudly she was positive he could hear it. If only he knew how much his words were affecting her, how much she had longed to hear him say the things he was saying. She focused back on him.

"Draco..." she started, and his lips twitched at the name, "it's not a bad thing. To change. To be different."

He was shaking his head. "But Hermione!" he almost shouted, and then groaned and rolled his head back exasperatedly, "See? See what's happening? Now I'm calling you by your first name."

"It's not the end of the world, Draco!" exclaimed Hermione. "Why do you always have to stick to this one person? Why_ can't_ you be different? You have every right to be! I _know_ I'm a Muggle-born, but does that mean I'm any different than you are? Why _can't_ you call me by my first name?"

He looked at her speculatively, raising the cigarette to his lips again. His eyebrows were knitted together, and he seemed to be contemplating her words.

"Hermione," he said experimentally. "Her-mione." He made a fake retching noise. "Ugh, sounds weird coming from my mouth."

She burst out laughing, punching him on the shoulder. "Yeah, okay. I had no problem calling you Draco."

"That's 'cause you're you. You're little miss prissy, miss perfect, miss -,"

"Shut up! Now, can you stop being all grumpy and come back to the party?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's so stupid. Just a bunch of horny teenagers rubbing up against each other."

Hermione folded her arms. "Um...you're a horny teenager."

"Oh, really?" said Draco, smirking. "So who's the one that seduced me, eh?"

Hermione bit back a smile. "Okay, fine. Now come on, we're going back. And get rid of that!" she said, grabbing the cigarette from his mouth and throwing it on the ground to crush it under her heel and then dragging him towards the pub. They reentered, and Hermione immediately let go of Draco, noticing Ron's red eyes staring back at her.

"I'll see you in a bit," she whispered to Draco, who was also staring back at Ron with his arrogant face. Hermione made her way to the other side of the enormous table, reaching Harry.

"Hermione," said Harry, gripping her arm and whispering in her ear. "I need you to...play along." Hermione gazed at him confusedly, then saw that he was nodding his head in Ginny's direction. Rolling her eyes, she pursed her lips, but reluctantly nodded her head at Harry's pleading face.

Time to make someone jealous.

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**A/N: **please continue **reviewing**, guys! your comments are important to me!

_**~Veralena**_


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Draco frowned. What the fuck was going on?

Why were Potter's arms around Hermione? They were laughing loudly together. Weasley wasn't even paying attention to them...he looked piss drunk.

Potter had wrapped both his arms around her...he was saying something in her ear...she turned her head around and laughed at his words...they were both smiling at each other...

Draco was suddenly feeling lightheaded. He was seeing red...the will to break someone's neck was suddenly very strong. He tore his eyes away from them and looked around wildly for something with which to bring out his anger. When he found nothing, he stormed away.

* * *

Was that...Harry? With Hermione? What the hell?

Ginny breathed in deeply. She was on the other side of the room, but she could see from afar that they were wrapped around each other. Dean's constant stream of words faded before reaching her ears. Her attention was focused solely on Harry...and that bitch.

She was the closest girl friend she had, and now this? To betray her and her trust was the ultimate offense. She watched, fuming, as Harry gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek, and that...slut even blushed. They were whispering things to each other...what were they saying? Ginny wanted to know what they were saying! Ugh, this was unbelievably irritating...and she was getting angrier by the second.

"Ginny? Are you listening to me?"

Ginny tore her eyes away from Harry and faced Dean. He was looking at her with concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You seem kind of...distracted."

Ginny breathed in deeply. "No...no, I'm fine."

She gave Harry one final glance before focusing back on Dean. She didn't bother sparing Hermione another look.

Whore.

*

*

*

"Okaaay everyone!" yelled out Romilda at one in the morning. Most of the people had left the pub to wander around Hogsmeade with their friends or engage in other frivolities (ahem). There were only about thirty people left in the pub at this point, and the party seemed to be slowing down. No one was paying attention to Romilda so she had to step up on the table again and crash a bottle of butterbeer.

"Woops!" she giggled, her glittery heels hanging from one hand. "Hiiyyaaa guys!" she drawled. Most people stopped talking and turned to look at her.

"Soooo there's -," she started counting people but gave up on it after a few seconds, "-a few of you left aaaand I've planned somefing exxtra special for you guys!"

A few people cheered, raising their glasses.

"We're aaaall going for a hike!"

Everyone stared back confusedly at her.

"Yup!" confirmed Romilda, laughing gaily. "We're gonna go for a leeetle hike up in the mountains," she said, vaguely pointing in a random direction, "but you don't aaall have to come."

Some people, grabbing more snacks off the table, dispersed, and Romilda happily led the rest of them outside.

"Come on, people!" she shouted, and the small throng followed her.

"If we get caught..." whispered Hermione to Harry nervously. Harry tightened his hold on Ron, whom he was dragging along behind him.

"Don't worry, Hermione," said Harry, throwing his mead on the ground. "You've done worse stuff before," he joked, even though it was true.

"Why don't we just leave, Harry? It's so pointless, going for a hike."

Harry shook his head frantically. "No! You can't leave! We have to make Ginny jealous, remember?" He gestured towards Ginny at the front of the group, laughing along with Dean.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

They were heading towards the outskirts of the village, where the cottages were few and more spaced apart. Hermione looked around for any sign of Draco, and saw him at the rear, walking with his head down. She wanted to leave so badly, but didn't want to let Harry down. She had a feeling Draco was only sticking around for her.

They reached the foot of the mountain and they all started along a rocky path leading upwards. The night had gotten colder, and the stars overhead still beamed, lighting their way along with the moon. Some of them were having trouble getting up, as they were drunk; giggles were heard as people tripped and held on to the person in front of them.

"Hang on..." started Harry, "this looks really familiar..."

"We've been here before," added Hermione.

Harry's eyes opened wide. "This is the same path we took to get to Sirius' cave in our fourth year! Remember?"

Hermione gasped. "But how did...how did Romilda find out?"

"No idea..."

And just as they had thought, Romilda led them up the mountain, and after nearly half an hour of climbing, they reached the same narrow fissure in the rock and squeezed in.

"Oh...my...god," stammered Hermione. They were standing in the same, small, dimly lit cave they had visited when Sirius was still alive. She remembered clearly that Sirius had morphed back into a black dog and started munching on the food Harry had brought for him, throwing some to Buckbeak who had been tethered in a corner of the cave. Her throat tightened; she looked at Harry. His eyes had become slightly watery – she was sure he was thinking of Sirius – and she looked away, giving him some privacy.

But Romilda had transformed the cave into a sumptuous haven of luxury. The dirty floor had been covered with threadbare carpets, upon which sat plushy couches with silky cushions. Pictures of Romilda smiling, Romilda posing and Romilda pouting were hanging on the cave walls. It seemed like a mini living room. And to finish off the vainness of the room, there was a giant, magically sustained chandelier hanging from the cave ceiling.

"Wow," intoned most of the people. Some of them were simply surprised to find the cave here, and others were amazed with the furniture. Most of them sat down carefully on the sofas, afraid of ruining them. Hermione remained standing.

Romilda clasped her hands cheerfully and stood in front of everyone.

"Weeeell, seeing as the night's still young, I thought of a game!"

Everyone cheered.

"It's an icebreaker, though I pout, I mean doubt mooost of you need an icebreaker!" giggled Romilda. "Okay, so you sit in a ciiiircle and it has to be boy-girl-boy-girl, unlessss you swing the other waaaay, if you know what I mean!" And she laughed stupidly at her own joke. Most of the people were so drunk that they laughed along with her.

"And theeeen, you pass along a pieeece of ice, only it has to be via mouth!"

Everyone ooh-ed and aah-ed. "The team that passes the mooost ice," continued Romilda, "WINS!"

Hermione pulled on Harry's arm. "Oh, Harry, this is so stupid! Let's leave!"

But Harry was staring at Ginny. "No...come on, Hermione! Loosen up!"

Hermione groaned and watched as everyone arranged themselves in circles. She decided to just go along with it, and went and sat down on the ground. Immediately, Draco appeared out of nowhere and sat smoothly down beside her.

"What are you doing?" hissed Hermione, glancing furtively at Ron. Suddenly she noticed Ron coming towards her. Her astonishment grew as Ron sat down beside her, reeking of alcohol.

".God," said Hermione under her breath. Here was Draco, coolly and calmly sitting next to her, and on the other side was Ron, his eyes red and his body waving from the many drinks. The two guys on each side of her stared at one another with ferocity, then turned away.

Hermione felt herself shrink many inches into the ground.

A pretty looking girl had sat down on Ron's other side, but Ron did not seem to notice her. The girl had dark brown, curly hair and a sweet looking face, and she was looking at Ron hopefully. On her other side was Dean, who was sitting beside Ginny. Hermione saw Harry's eyes widen before he hurried and sat next to Ginny. Hermione shook her head, sighing heavily. This was probably the worst idea Harry had had so far.

Their circle was almost complete, except that Harry and Draco were now sitting beside each other. They were shooting each other murderous looks, which Romilda, who was still standing and overseeing all the other circles, had seemed to notice.

"Oh! Room for another one?" she asked innocently, before taking a seat in between Draco and Harry. Romilda's eyes seemed to have an enraptured look, as if proclaiming, 'look, I'm sitting next to the two hottest guys in Hogwarts'. She turned to Harry but frowned when she saw he was staring at Ginny. She therefore turned to her other side.

"Hiiii, Dracoooo," she purred, her fingers n his shirt. Hermione watched with an amused face as Draco leaned slightly away.

"See?" cooed Romilda, "I tooold you you'd be my guest of honor..."

Romilda then turned to a stocky-looking girl who was standing behind her. "We're ready, Edith."

The girl nodded, then gestured with her wand to all the circles so that little plates with pieces of ice appeared on them. At their circle, the plate with all the ice appeared in front of Dean, and the plate with no ice appeared in front of the brunette girl. Romilda folded her hands behind her back, so the rest of them followed suit and got ready.

"One, two, three, GO!" yelled out Edith.

Dean picked up the piece of ice with his mouth from the plate, which seemed an epic task, then passed it to Ginny. Hermione watched amusedly as she passed it along to Harry, but Ginny would not look him in the eyes. Harry passed it to Romilda, whose eyes were closed dreamily, and she passed it along to Draco. When he turned towards Hermione and came close to her, she couldn't help the blush creep along her cheeks. She hadn't ever kissed him, despite all the seductive moves she had tried on him. Draco's face seemed oddly serious, and he passed it to her without looking in her eyes. For a brief moment, their lips touched, and Hermione felt giddy. Then she turned away from him, and the moment had ended.

Feeling awkward, she passed the piece of ice to Ron, who still reeked of the magical mead. His lips touched hers as well (it was kind of hard not to), and then he turned and passed it along to the girl beside him. The brunette girl then dropped the ice on her empty plate; meanwhile Dean had already started the chain again.

The rounds of ice continued for a few more minutes. Hermione's back was starting to ache from being in this uncomfortable position, and her lips were starting to feel numb from all the passing of ice. Soon, Edith rang a whistle.

"Okay, count your ice!"

The brunette girl counted; their group had seven pieces of ice. They looked around, some group in the corner was cheering.

"We have twelve pieces!" shouted a stocky guy from their group. "Beat that, shitheads!"

Everyone laughed, and Romilda strutted over to their group and handed them an overflowing basket of chocolate. She then stood in front of everyone again.

"Well, wasn't that pun? I mean, fun?" she said, beaming down at them all, "Okaay, so nooow, we're going to play a different gaaame. Paaair up with the peeeerson besiiide you. You aaall have to snoooog!" she said, giggling. Some of them stared back at her stonily, while some of them appeared highly excited. "Buut there are ruuules. One couple at a tiiime, and the couple that snogs the looongest WINS!"

Hermione desperately turned to Draco, but he wasn't looking at her. Confused and hurt by his odd behavior, she turned to see Ron grinning at her drunkenly. She did _not_ intend to snog Ron, but if she went with Draco, it would be enough proof to Harry and Ron that something was definitely going on between them.

She turned once more to see if Draco was looking at her or not, but he had stood up and was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He appeared to have read her mind. Reluctantly, Hermione dragged Ron up with her as well.

"Okaay! So who's the first couple?" called Romilda. An excited couple went up in front of everyone; Edith got out a stopwatch and nodded her head at them, and immediately the couple began snogging.

Everyone cheered, but Hermione was tapping her foot nervously. She did not feel comfortable about snogging Ron. She looked over at Harry; he did not appear to be playing, but was bitterly watching Ginny and Dean holding hands excitedly. Harry saw her looking at him and came over to her and Ron.

"Harry, why don't we just leave? This is just idiotic!" she whispered to him, but Harry was glaring at Ginny and Dean.

"Hermione," he murmured back, "be my partner."

She stared at him.

"What?"

He looked at her now. "It'll be the ultimate punch in the stomach. Ginny will completely fall for it. Please Hermione?" he said, his eyes pleading again. Hermione simply stared back at him. Ron had clearly pieced together that Harry and Hermione were going to be a couple for the game and was throwing loose punches at Harry.

"Ron...Ron, stop," said Harry, grabbing Ron's arms, "relax, mate. Here, go with her," he said, turning Ron around and pairing him with the pretty brunette girl from before.

"Hi," said the girl shyly. "I'm Bridgette...Bridgette Fay."

* * *

A/N: anyone remember who she is? if not, check the beginning of the story again... and please, remember to **REVIEW**!! it really gives me inspiration to keep writing.

_**~Veralena**_


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N:** hi guys, sorry for the delay! life always gets in the way...wait a minute, that rhymed. enjoy!

**

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Chapter 14**

Ron attempted to widen his eyes and look at Bridgette clearly, and he was clearly contented with what he saw, for he began talking immediately.

"I'm Rooonald Weashley," he said, grinning lazily.

The two of them looked at each other happily, and Harry and Hermione turned back to each other.

"No way, Harry," she said, crossing her arms. "This is too much. Ginny will literally bite my head off."

Harry's expression had become pained. He looked exasperated. "Honestly, Hermione, do you really think Ginny even likes me anymore? Look at her," he gestured to Ginny and Dean laughing together, "she looks so happy...I'm just doing this because...well, it's my last shot. I doubt she'll even want to talk to me ever again. But I just wanted to see if maybe I still have a chance..."

Hermione deliberated. On the one hand, Ginny was already so pissed at her that it really didn't matter what she did. And Harry was her best friend...Yes, it would be weird to make out with him, but at least he wasn't drunk.

"Fine," she said, throwing up her arms. "I really don't care about anything anymore. I'm just so tired with thinking that I just want to DO something. Screw the consequences."

Harry looked at her. "Really? Hermione...that's not like you."

Hermione gave him an aggrieved look. "It's late, and I'm feeling just a little bit tipsy. I'll probably forget everything by tomorrow morning," she said lightly, although she knew it was a lie and so did he.

"Next couple?" asked Romilda, as the current couple stumbled off, laughing. Ron and Bridgette strode up holding hands. "Okay! Seady? Ret? Go!" cried Romilda, and Ron and Bridgette locked lips. She looked slightly like she was being attacked by Ron, and seeing as he was drunk, she probably was. However, she did not let go of him, and they continued snogging for a very long time.

"Wow," intoned Hermione, "never would have thought...wow."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I know."

Hermione chanced a glance behind her and saw Draco still leaning against the cave wall in the far back-left corner. His head was down, but she had a feeling he was keeping track of exactly what was happening.

After a while, Bridgette and Ron broke apart, gasping for air, and everyone clapped.

"Next?" called out Romilda. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her to the front. She heard a few people cheer, others murmur controversially, and saw two people in her peripheral vision that looked murderous: Ginny and Draco. But before she could think, Edith had blown the whistle, and Harry's lips were on hers.

It was overwhelming. She could feel Harry's stubble against her chin, smell his distinct, familiar scent, and taste very strong mead on her tongue. She was hesitant at first, her hands laying cautiously on Harry's chest, but soon the rational part of her brain shut off, and she had wrapped her arms around Harry. Her hands were in his messy hair, his tongue in her mouth and his hands binding her close to him. The part of her brain that was still active seemed to be convincing her that it was Draco she was kissing, and the image of his face propelled her to kiss Harry even harder. She was not alone; she was sure she felt Harry's lips mouthing "Ginny" against her lips at least once. She felt his hands buried deep in her hair, her body was pressed against his, glued almost. She felt him push back on her, enough that she stumbled backwards, and they tumbled into the couch behind them.

She imagined his pale skin, his blond hair, his piercing gray eyes...Her back arched and she moaned involuntarily. She felt his hands moving through her hair and on her face, down her neck, slowly, so slowly. She wrapped a leg around him, willing to push herself even closer to him. She imagined his pointed chin, his rock-hard abs, his strong arms...Her hands gripped in his hair and moved down onto his face, and then she felt...glasses.

Her eyes opened. The inactive part of her brain became active again. What the fuck was she doing? And why was she on the couch with...Harry? He was still kissing her, his eyes were still closed, and his hands were very near to her cleavage. When she felt his hands slip down lower to touch her sensitive skin, she pushed on his chest.

"Ugh...get off!" she tried saying, but her voice was muffled, and he didn't appear to have heard anything. She beat her fists on his chest, but he wasn't moving – he was much too strong. She tried pulling at his hair, or aiming a kick at him, but he was pressed too close to her, she couldn't –

And suddenly, she felt cold again, and she gasped in air. Where was Harry? Blinking her eyes furiously, she looked around, and saw everyone cheering as Draco and Harry tumbled on the ground, punching every visible part of each other.

"Stop it, guys! Just stop it!" she tried yelling, but her voice was rough, they couldn't hear her. Draco had pulled Harry up and aimed a punch right on his cheek, sending his glasses flying in the same direction. Harry shook his head violently and lifted his leg, kicking Draco straight in the stomach. Draco, anticipating the move, ducked and head butted Harry all the way into the cave wall.

"No! Please! Stop Draco!" cried Hermione, getting up from the couch and flinging herself on Draco's back to pull him away, but he merely threw her off. Harry's back resounded against the cave wall with a loud thud, and Draco had thrown his hands around Harry's neck, wringing them.

"Someone, please help!" cried out Hermione, turned to everyone else, but they were all cheering, yelling "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" and though a few of them were silent, they appeared too frightened to enter the brawl.

Harry had lifted his legs under Draco's grasp and aimed a kick at Draco's knee, causing Draco to buckle down; he quickly recovered and brought back his arm to punch Harry in the gut again, when –

"PROTEGO!"

A huge, blue force field sprung up between Harry and Draco. Hermione kept her wand aloft, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks roughly with her other hand. The cave was completely silent except for some water drops heard from outside; it appeared to be raining. The force of Hermione's shield charm caused a strong hum to reverberate along the walls of the cave, and Harry and Draco's panting filled the air. Hermione walked towards Harry, her wand still maintaining the shield charm. She lowered her wand only when she reached him.

"I'm disgusted at you," spat Hermione, turning to Draco. The sleeve of his black jacket had been torn, and his hair was covering his eyes, revealing them only when he drew ragged breaths. Hermione shook her head at him disappointingly. "I thought better of you," she said bitterly. "I guess I was wrong."

"Come on, Harry," she added quietly. She took Harry's arm and led him towards the narrow fissure in the rock leading out of the cave.

*

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*

"I am so sorry, Hermione," said Harry afterwards, when they had both reached the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry was sitting by the fire with his shirt off while Hermione sat in front of him with a bowl of water and a clean cloth. The Common Room was empty, as most people had left soon after the fight and had decided to head to bed. Ron had sleepily clambered over to the Boy's Dormitories after patting Harry on the back and saying, "Get well shoon, Barry!" Hermione had stayed behind to clean up Harry's cuts.

"I really shouldn't have pushed you," continued Harry, "I didn't realize what I was doing! I _knew _I drank too much mead...I thought you were Ginny," he added guiltily. "None of this would have happened if -,"

"It's okay, Harry," said Hermione quietly. She didn't know why, but she was feeling very emotional. The look on Draco's face as they left had been so intense, so full of hatred and extreme dislike that she had been reduced to tears on their way back to the castle. Harry had tried calming her, but nothing was working. She had finally settled down after having a glass of water and sitting down in the Common Room.

"Are you sure, Hermione?" asked Harry carefully, looking at her face. "You look kind of...sad."

Hermione sniffed. She used the cloth with the cool water to soothe the bruises on Harry's neck, then cleaned the small cuts on his side. "I'm fine," she sounded, choking back another wave of tears. "There," she said, her voice constricted, "you're all done." She took out her wand and murmured an incantation over the rest of Harry's cuts so that they healed themselves.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said gratefully. "Really, for everything." He stroked her hair and gave her a tentative smile. She attempted to smile back but couldn't, so she just got up and went out the portrait of the Fat Lady.

The moon beamed down through the floor-length windows, lighting the castle with an eerie glow. The trees outside cast looming shadows onto the carpet inside, and creaking floorboards could be heard all over the castle. Hermione would have been scared had she not been so down. She dragged herself all the way up to her Common Room; the lights were out in Draco's room. She didn't even know if he'd gotten back or not.

She entered her bedroom; the grandfather clock indicated that it was four in the morning. She kicked off her boots and stripped off her white blouse and skirt. Not even bothering to wash her face, she plunged into the sheets in her bra and panties, depressed and exhausted.

_It was over_, she kept thinking as she cried herself to sleep. _It was all over_.

*

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*

The next two weeks were a gash on Hermione's life that she did not like to think about. Alas, she was forced to face the consequences of her own rash actions, as well as..._his_.

She did not like to think about him either. She was slightly grateful that he had taken the pains to leave very early in the morning, and come back very late at night so as to avoid any kind of contact with her. He would not look at her in Potions and neither would she look at him.

The school buzzed for a few days after the party about all that had happened. The main focus of the gossip was that Hermione and Harry had snogged very sexily, and Draco had gotten jealous and had a fight with Harry. This led to speculation about whether Hermione was playing with the two men's hearts, but even more so, if _Draco Malfoy_ had actually fallen in love with _Hermione Granger_.

Hermione was the constant victim of snide remarks now. Either the Slytherins would harshly tell her that Draco would never fall in love with her, that he was far too superior to her Muggle blood, or her own Gryffindors would rudely insult her, telling her that it was a disgrace to have a Slytherin-lover in their house. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had decided to side with Gryffindor's point of view, resulting in Hermione being completely shunned from all sides.

She felt like her life was ruined. The only one whom she had on her side was Harry, who tried convincing everyone that Hermione had indeed done no harm and that she and Draco were definitely not in love. But he was only one person against the entire school. Even Ron, who had forgotten all the night's events, was outraged the next day when he learned exactly what had happened.

"WHAT THE _FUCK_ WERE YOU PLAYING AT, HARRY?" he yelled that day, in the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry and Hermione had been finishing their homework when Ron had stormed down from the Boy's Dormitories.

"Ron, listen to me," started Harry calmly.

"NO!" roared Ron, "I WON'T FUCKING LISTEN TO YOU, NOT EVER AGAIN! I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU DIDN'T FUCKING LIKE HER LIKE _THAT_! I THOUGHT YOU SAID SHE WAS LIKE YOUR SISTER! THEN WHAT THE _FUCK_ HAPPENED?!?"

Harry stood up. "Calm, down, mate. It was a game, we were trying to -,"

"IT'S NOT A FUCKING GAME!" he growled back. And then he turned to Hermione. "AND YOU..." he trailed off, his face completely red and his fists clenched, "I _NEVER_ WANT TO FUCKING TALK TO YOU EVER AGAIN!"

And he turned on his heel and stormed off.

Over the next week the buzz died down, especially when people started noticing that Hermione and Draco were definitely not talking to each other. Some people brushed it away as a lover's squall, but most of them realized that perhaps they weren't exactly _in love_. The Gryffindors were still angry at her, but some of them decided to forgive Hermione for her terrible offense.

"It's okay, Hermione," said Lavendar and Parvati one night. "I mean...who wouldn't want a piece," they giggled, "of Draco Malfoy?"

But that was the one thing Hermione did not want at the moment. Everywhere she went it was Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. She could not seem to get away from him. Her heart felt like it had broken in two every time she thought of him. On the off chance that their eyes would accidentally meet, she felt like his piercing eyes bore deep down into her soul, pouring salt on her wounds. She missed talking to him, and yet his hate had caused a fissure between them that only seemed to grow larger day by day.

He hated her, there was no questioning that. Hermione found herself crying to sleep every single night, tired from the Slytherin's taunts and mentally exhausted from trying to avoid thoughts of Draco. She was angry that he had resorted to physical violence to deal with Harry, but she also found his actions to be a justifiable. He had not known that she and Harry were only snogging to make Ginny jealous. He did not know that she and Harry were not going out, and that she only had eyes for one person – for _him_. For Draco Malfoy.

The days passed by until it was two days before the Quidditch match. It had been raining all week, and the Gryffindor team had been practicing even in the miserable weather, desperate to get as much practice time in before they lost their Keeper and their Captain the day before the match. Ron and Harry would have to somehow face each other during their double detention, and Hermione knew that it would not be pleasant. Their other classes were already quite difficult, as Ron would try to avoid sitting next to the both of them, and he would not talk to them in Potions.

What had been the point, really, of coming back? Why had she decided to be stupid and return to redo her final year when it had turned out to be such a mess? Had she known that her life would lead down such a miserable path, she would have not been so greedy for excitement, for love. She would never have turned back time.

And yet, had she known the events of the fateful day before the Quidditch match, she would never have regretted returning.

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**A/N:** and to those of you who have been waiting for some serious DM/HG action all this time will get it in the next chapter!!!!!! YES FINALLY! the time has come!!!

so...**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW** IF YOU WANT TO SEE SOME LEMONSSSSSSSS!!!

_**~Veralena**_


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N:** this chapter is rated M.

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Chapter 15**

Hermione had not spoken to Draco for more than a week. It had been quite easy, actually, to ignore him, especially when she barely saw him. But the anger and the hurt within her did not cease, and she longed for a confrontation with Draco, to sort things out. But he would not listen to her, he would not look at her, and he would never remain in her general area longer than a few seconds.

It was therefore a surprise that he actually spoke to her after a week.

"Get the fuck out of my way, Granger," he hissed. Hermione had just come into their Common Room and had bumped into Draco, who appeared to have just been leaving. The moment the words left his mouth, his face showed regret. He seemed to have forgotten that they were not on speaking terms anymore, and made to leave. But Hermione seized the opportunity.

"And why should I, Malfoy? I've not done anything wrong," said Hermione, shaking slightly but holding her voice steady. She looked up into his face, and saw that his eyes were glaring hatefully back at her.

"Oh really...So the fact that you play around with one person, then snog _fucking_ _Potter_ isn't important, right?" He appeared to be breathing heavily, and his voice was rising with every word. His handsome face looked twisted, angry, his eyebrows had become inverted-v's, giving him a terrible look.

"Don't call him that!" shrieked Hermione, who was also breathing heavily, trying to stop the tugging sensation at her tear ducts. _Don't cry...please don't start crying now._

"Oh yeah, I forgot. You fucking LOVE Potter, don't you, Granger? He's your new boyfriend. You just forgot about everyone else!"

She couldn't take it anymore, her lips had started quivering, and soon enough, the tears had started flowing. Angry at herself for breaking down in front of Draco, she wiped them away hastily, clenching her fists.

"Yes that's right, blame Hermione, why don't you? Blame her for everything, without even considering WHY she was kissing Harry. Do you know, Malfoy? You don't, do you? HARRY LIKES GINNY. Everyone knew that...they went out last year. So do you know what Harry asked me, Malfoy? He asked me to play along with him, to flirt with him, to make GINNY JEALOUS. He still likes her! We're best friends, of course I agreed! So I kissed him, to help him! To help him, Malfoy! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT? But no, of course you don't. You can't ever use your brain! You could have asked me about it! You could have asked me WHY Harry and I were pretending to be together! Instead, you had to go beat up Harry! HOW DARE YOU? He's my BEST FRIEND! And because of you, now everyone's talking about what happened. And they don't blame you, of course. You're the 'King of Slytherin'...you're untouchable. No...they blame ME. You have NO IDEA what I've been living through, Malfoy! You have no idea the hell that's been my life for the past week. People insult me. They tease me, they make rude comments, they get mad at me, they shun me! And it's all because of you! Here I was thinking that maybe you...but no. I guess you never felt that way. I should have known better. I was an idiot. I didn't realize...never thought...that you..."

And she broke down completely, falling to her knees, her hair covering her face, her eyes flooded with tears. Her voice was dead from all the screaming, mentally tired from the words that had poured out of her system. She wept bitterly, crumpled at Draco's feet, and he simply stood there, silent, like a stone.

She realized after a few moments that he had left.

*

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*

Hermione Granger was having a terrible day.

Draco could tell, by looking at her face, that she was miserable as hell. It had started with breakfast the day before the Quidditch Match. He had glimpsed her dark eyes and straight hair all the way across the Great Hall – not that he had been looking for her of course. She was having breakfast on her own, separated by a few feet from her fellow Gryffindors. Ugh, how he hated those bloody Gryffindors. So damn over proud.

She was pretending to read a book – he could tell that she wasn't concentrating on it, for her eyes were shifting along the table, and he was sure her ears were perked up to see if the people around her were gossiping about her. Even though most of the buzz had died down, he had still heard the occasional whispers about the party. Her usually bright eyes appeared dull, her mouth turned down at the corners. She looked uncomfortable.

Blaise and Pansy were on either side of him. They were complaining about something, but he didn't feel like listening. It wasn't until he felt a slap on his shoulder that he focused on them.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Draco?" moaned Pansy, glaring at him reproachfully. "You're not actually lusting after the Mudblood are you?"

Draco was silent. He folded his hands together and pretended not to have heard.

"Are you?" asked Blaise, a knowing grin on his face. Draco was sure Blaise was referring to their stupid bet. He couldn't believe he'd accepted that – he'd been so naïve.

"I'm fine," said Draco, clearing his throat, "and no."

He had Transfiguration next, one of two classes he had with Hermione. He watched her as she made her way over to the back of the classroom, odd behavior, for Hermione always sat at the front. He watched silently as the entire class went by, and not once did her hand go up to answer a question, nor did she talk to anyone about anything. He spent the next few classes deep in thought, trying to ignore Blaise and Pansy, who seemed deeply disturbed by his strange manner. He was therefore thoroughly content to leave their presence once class ended. He had Potions with Blaise, but his friend seemed to have settled in his mind that Draco was clearly thinking up solutions to his end of the bet, so he left him alone. Draco shot furtive glances at Hermione when he thought Blaise wasn't looking, seeing her talk quietly to Potter and ignoring Weasley. The Macmillan kid was talking to Hermione, but he wasn't looking at her directly. Draco assumed he hadn't dismissed the rumors about her yet.

Potions was the last class for Draco, but he noticed that Hermione and the Macmillan kid had gathered their books again and were heading outside. Before leaving the classroom, Draco heard Hermione say to Potter, "Can't you tell Professor Snape to reschedule your detention for another day? You're going to miss a class!" But Potter shook his head and walked towards Snape's desk. Just then -

"Ernie," said some Ravenclaw chick, "where are you going? Classes are over."

"Oh," replied Macmillan, "Madam Sprout scheduled an early evening class of Herbology, because Poisonous Jibblies only bloom at twilight. Another hour to go!"

They had reached the entrance to the castle by now. Draco looked out the windows; it was pouring sheets of freezing cold rain. He kept well behind in the crowd and followed Hermione outside.

He immediately wished he'd stayed inside. The rain penetrated his cloak instantaneously, drenching him to the skin. He lagged behind the students walking towards the greenhouses, making sure they could not notice him, and then ran towards the courtyard in front of the greenhouses. He found a space below a pillar supporting the low roof that sheltered him from the rain, and waited.

He did not know what he was doing, only that he thought this to be right. When he had heard Hermione's words yesterday, something in him had alleviated: the burning, pressing rejection had lifted from his heart, and he had felt light again. _She did not like Potter. She did not like Potter_...And what else had she wanted to say at the end? Something about him feeling a particular way for her, wasn't it? He had wanted to say something, but he did not know what.

He had been awake all night, thinking of Hermione's words, seeing her face in his mind as clear as if she was standing right in front of him. And he kept thinking of her, and her image kept haunting him: her sweet voice like honey, her beautiful eyes the color of chocolate, her full pink lips, her fiery stubbornness, her lilting laugh, the way she would flirt with him, the way she had seduced him...

And suddenly...he knew.

Draco shook the rain out of his eyes, and watched the blurry shapes inside the greenhouses move, and he even saw something that looked like a vine snap at one of the shapes. Time passed quickly as he was lost in his thoughts, and soon the class emerged from the greenhouse. He watched from afar as Hermione walked alone through the mud back to the castle. Looking down and dreary, she clutched her books to her chest as she strode on. Suddenly, she took a wrong step and tripped on the slippery mud. Draco made to run forwards, but stopped himself. He watched unbearably as people walked by her without even glancing at her, and he thought he saw Hermione's eyes brim up in tears, although he could not be sure because of the rain. His suspicions were confirmed when she reached up an arm to wipe her tears, and then started groveling in the mud to pick up her dirty books. She slowly got up, and he was saddened to see her robes completely covered in muck. No one helped her. She slowly trudged on, dragging her feet up the path back to the castle.

Draco watched her until she was no longer in view. He then took a deep breath.

This was it.

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*

Hermione struggled for breath as her tears overtook her. The journey back up to the castle was proving to be very difficult. She passed people sneering at her and giving her rude hand gestures from afar. The mud on her cloak was starting to seep into her inner clothes, so she took out her wand and performed a cleaning spell on her robes. It took her a few tries, for her throat was thick with tears, but she eventually managed to siphon off most of the mud, leaving her slightly more warm and dry. Her hair was still sopping wet, and she decided to fix that when she got back to her bedroom.

Hermione felt like it was all over. After her little outburst at _him_ yesterday, she had realized that it was true, that he did not love her. He never had, and he never would. She had thought that perhaps after everything they had done, and after everything they had been through that perhaps he had begun to change. But to no avail, it seemed. Hermione only wished that she could have told him properly how she felt...

She reached the portrait of the young woman in the forest clearing, mumbled the password, and walked in, wiping at her face with the back of her hand.

She stopped dead.

He was there, standing straight, breathing hard, his eyes darkened...but something about him had changed. His eyes showed understanding. Affection, almost. The tears started pouring down Hermione's face again, but this time she did not make to wipe them away. They stood there, looking at each other, the tension building, and yet they did not make any movement. She waited for him to say something, but the words did not come. All that was there was their gaze, fiery and bright. And then Hermione couldn't take it anymore, and she ran towards him...and he outstretched his arms, enveloping her in his embrace...and their lips met.

And they kissed with a passion that they did not know had been there: it was furious, it was overwhelming, it was irresistible, it was maddening. It felt like the release of emotions that had been built up for months, it felt like all the unsaid words that had been in their minds were being poured out in this one kiss.

He pulled away from her slightly, holding her in his arms, and looked at her face. Her eyes were still closed, but she opened them once he whispered her name.

"Hermione," he said quietly, "Hermione, Hermione..." And he kissed her forehead, and the salty tracks left behind from her tears on her cheeks, and he stroked her hair and kissed her nose and her lips as he had never kissed anyone ever before. Her eyes were brimming again, but this time they were tears of happiness, tears of silent relief...he was hers, finally.

He continued kissing her soft lips and picked her up easily in his arms, carrying her over to his bedroom. He kicked open the door and walked over to his bed, laying Hermione carefully down on the silk sheets. He lay down as well, kissing her gently; on her lips, on her cheeks, on her neck...She buried her small hands in his soft blond hair, her eyes closed and her lips parted, unable to believe that this was actually happening. The tingling sensation in her stomach had returned...this felt like a dream.

He looked back into her face, grazing his fingers lightly on her eyelids. She opened her eyes and looked at him. The same fiery gaze passed between them again, and without looking down, Draco slowly and carefully began unbuttoning her shirt. Hermione's gaze did not waver. She continued looking at him as she too unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his rock-hard body. She eased the shirt off his shoulders and let him do the same for her.

She felt much more modest in her bra than she had felt with that seductive outfit on. She raised her arms to cover herself, but he placed a hand on her arm, looking right at her. Giving her a light, chaste kiss on her lips, he slowly pulled her arms away. She let him, pulling his body to hers.

Draco got up from the bed, still staring at her as he took off his pants. Hermione stared back, taking off her shoes, her stockings, her skirt and throwing them on the floor. She crawled back on the green sheets, traveling further onto the bed, and he came over to her in his black boxers. Their gaze did not break.

He began kissing her; first her lips, her cheeks and her chin, then her neck, her chest, and the generous mounds that were her breasts. He left a hot trail of kisses down her quivering stomach, planting one on her belly button, then down to her white panties. He laid a kiss on the soft material, making Hermione want more, and then continued on to lick at her thighs and smooth his hands over her legs. Very, very slowly, he pulled down the corners of her panties and eased them off of her body.

Hermione, feeling shy, closed her legs, hiding herself from him, but he kissed her knees and stroked her thighs, telling her wordlessly that it was okay. Looking at his face, she felt comforted, and let his hands ease open her legs, letting him see her treasure hidden by light brown curls. He leaned in, breathing in her heavenly scent, and then gave the dewy dampness between her legs a long, slow lick. Hermione's body shuddered, and he saw her hands clench at the bed sheets as she arched her back. He inserted a finger into her opening, marveling at the softness and the tightness of her inner walls, and continued licking at her clit. She started moaning lightly, sounding like a meowing cat. When he decided she was wet enough, he withdrew his fingers, making her arched back cave again.

He took off his boxers and watched Hermione as her eyes rounded at the sight. She had felt him before, but had never seen him properly. Their eyes met again, and he crashed his lips onto hers, pushing back her hair from her face, letting her hands crawl over his back. She absolutely loved the feel of his naked body on hers; they fit perfectly. Her petite form molded to his long, lean body, and she wrapped a leg over him, pulling him closer to her.

Draco pulled away from her slightly, looking down at her. His hair hung over his forehead, and his eyes burned with passion as he looked down at her beautiful face. Slowly, he reached down between them and placed his long shaft at her slick opening. Her swollen lips seemed to welcome his member, clasping wetly on to him. Draco looked worriedly down at Hermione, stroking her cheek. Quietly, he asked –

"Are you sure?"

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**A/N:** dun-dun-dun! please remember to **REVIEW **if u want an update!

_**~Veralena**_


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N:** sorry for the cliffy and for the wait! i know it was evil ;) some of you have been asking why hermione doesn't think of her former self anymore. you have to remember that the more time hermione spends in this alternate 7th year, the more she's beginning to forget what it was like before. and besides, how many of you like to remember your worst memories?

and don't worry, harry and ginny's story will continue. but enough chit chat, on with the lemons!

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**Chapter 16**

Hermione looked up at Draco, his handsome face filled with concern. This was it. The moment that she'd become a woman. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. She had complete faith in him.

And then pain, pain, and more pain, engulfed her, swallowed her whole. Draco pushed into her virginal walls, breaking her inside, making her feel like a sword had been thrust deep into her. Draco pulled out immediately, kissing her lips to distract her, stroking away her tears with his fingers. Her hands were on his chest, instinctively to push him away at the sign of pain. He kissed her entire face, willing her pain to cease.

After a little while, Hermione calmed down and opened her eyes to see Draco looking down at her, his eyebrows knitted with concern. She patted his cheek and nodded again for him to continue. He gave her a questioning look, but she kissed his lips to reassure him. Reaching down, he pushed his shaft back into her again. She closed her eyes, squinting in slight pain. Draco couldn't bear to see her hurting this much. He ignored the sting when she dug her fingernails into his back. Anything to ease her pain.

Gradually, Hermione's expression eased. Draco kept thrusting into her, gently at first. She wrapped her legs around him again, pressing urgently against him to push harder. Draco, no longer constrained, thrust into her faster. The feel of her tight walls on his shaft was like bliss. Every time he plunged into her, her juices created a squelching sound. She could feel his balls hitting her butt every time he thrust. Looking down, Draco saw Hermione's eyes closed, her back arched, and her mouth open as she moaned in pleasurable abandon. Her hands were thrown out, grasping the bed sheets tightly. Draco shook away the sweat pouring into his eyes and reached down to release Hermione's beautifully round breasts from her bra. Since the bra was still on her body, it pushed her breasts upwards, making them bounce every time they moved in unison.

He leaned down and kissed her breasts, licking her nipples and listening with delight as she groaned deeply from the back of her throat. He plunged deeper into her, going as far into her as he could, pounding into her faster and faster. When he heard Hermione's cries reach their maximum, he knew he was going to come too. He thrust deep in to her one last time before he felt her tight walls clamp down on his shaft, squeezing him hard and milking him of his seed. Hermione's back arched as she felt his warm liquid deep inside her and shuddered as she rode out the last waves of her climax.

Gasping, Draco collapsed on top of her breasts, his member still inside her. He dragged his hands over Hermione's arms, clasping her hands tightly. Hermione opened her eyes, looking down at him, his eyes closed as he lay on her chest. She watched carefully as each of her ragged breaths lifted his head gently, and how his lips were just grazing her right nipple. Sweat covered both of them, but Hermione felt absolutely clean – she had washed away all her worries, all her embarrassment and all her uncertainty with this one act.

Draco opened his eyes and looked up at her, giving her a rare, genuinely happy smile. She smiled back. He pulled out of her and grasped his silk duvet from the edge of the bed, covering them both. Hermione finally pulled off her bra and threw it across the room, then cuddled into him, wrapping a leg around his body. Draco enfolded her in his arms and kissed her forehead as she laid her head in the crook of his shoulder.

Hermione sighed. As they both drifted off to sleep, Hermione couldn't help thinking that she had never been so happy in her life.

*

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Draco groaned. Where the hell was that light coming from? He snapped his eyes open and saw that the curtain was open. Fuck. Why hadn't he closed it last night? The sun was so damn bright it was hurting his eyes.

He tried stretching his arms but couldn't move his left arm. What the hell? When he looked down, he was struck by the most shocking, most beautiful and most unexpected presence.

Why the _fuck_ was Hermione Granger in his bed?

And then everything came rushing back to him – the rain, the mud, Hermione walking sadly to the Common Room, their kiss, the sex...Wait. They shagged? Oh shit.

He tried pinching himself but settled for biting his tongue real hard. Nope, Hermione was still there in his arms. He looked at her attentively, watching as she slept soundly, her chest rising every time she took a breath. Her round breasts were exposed, and they looked delectable in the morning sunlight. Her long, usually-straight hair had turned slightly curly from the rain yesterday, making her head appear to have a crown of golden brown tresses. Her vermillion lips were parted slightly as she breathed in and out, and her eyelashes lay thickly upon her rosy cheeks. She seemed like the girl he had always wanted to wake up with.

Smiling slightly, he leaned over and brushed away a piece of hair from her face, lightly touching her button nose. But something held him inside – a constraint. He broke his gaze from her face and looked up at the ceiling, placing his free hand behind his head.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was Draco Malfoy, King of Slytherin, the ultimate badass, the most famous playboy in all of Hogwarts, and here he was falling for Hermione Granger. Sure, she wasn't nerdy or bookwormy anymore, but she was still...a Gryffindor. _And a muggle-born_, he thought. _I mean, mudblood_.

Something had been happening to him for the past few weeks. He had begun to change. It was odd. The more he hung out with Hermione, the more he became someone he didn't know. He was nicer, more playful, and more relaxed. But worry came back to him now.

Blaise would obviously be ecstatic that Draco had won the bet. He'd shagged 'the Granger girl'. But could he ever tell Blaise that he'd actually starting falling for her? It killed him to think that he'd have to leave Hermione, especially now that she'd begun fully trusting him. There was no doubt that he had feelings for her. He couldn't cheat himself out of that one. And he knew she felt the same way.

He looked down at her again, and his heart clenched tightly and unfamiliarly at the thought of parting with her. He'd wanted her so bad, and now that he'd had her, he felt even more attracted to her. Hermione was one heck of a girl. No one had ever made him feel this way. She was completely different from everyone else. Her audacity was vivacious; her determination solid like stone, and her intelligence was beyond any student's in all of Hogwarts. She was the only girl who had ever stood up to him; all the other ones only simpered when he yelled at them, and usually ran off. She argued with him, called him names and insulted him...and he simply loved it.

But he had to think realistically. He was still at Hogwarts. His reputation would be forever tarnished if he were caught with Hermione anywhere in the castle. He had already seen what had happened when he'd fought Potter over Hermione...he couldn't even fathom what would happen if anyone saw them fucking...or worse, kissing.

She would understand, wouldn't she? He forced himself to believe the lie, knowing full well that it would tear her apart when she found out what he had done.

Very slowly and carefully, he extracted his arm from underneath Hermione's head. She frowned lightly in her sleep, and then continued breathing regularly again. Draco got up from the bed, trying to make no noises, and dressed himself. A voice kept tutting at the back of his mind, telling him he was an idiot for doing this, but he ignored it, and buttoned up his shirt. Grabbing a quill from his desk and some parchment, he began writing. When he was finished, he folded it and placed it on his bedside table.

He caught a glimpse of himself in his mirror, and was shocked to find his reflection with red-rimmed eyes and a tortured face. The gut-wrenching feeling that he was leaving a part of himself in that bed did not vanish. Feeling immensely rotten, he looked over at Hermione's sleeping form again. The sunlight made her look glorious, and every inch of him wanted to go back into bed with her. Her face appeared peaceful, her breasts looked delectable, and her hips created a smooth curve underneath the sheets. Tearing his eyes away from her, he turned on his heel, opened his bedroom door, and left.

*

*

*

Hermione fluttered her eyes open. Sunlight was beaming down on her face, and she rubbed her eyes and squinted in the bright light. Why was this pillow feeling so comfortable? These sheets felt different...

She opened her eyes fully now and looked around her. Everything was green.

She'd slept with Draco. The small but relevant piece of information came soaring back into her brain, making her smile happily. Stretching her arms, she expectantly looked beside her.

He was not there.

Disappointed, she sat up in bed. Even though there was no one in the room, she covered her body with the silky green sheets. Maybe he was in the shower? She perked her ears to hear any sounds of cascading water, but there were none. Looking around futilely, her eyes suddenly alighted upon a folded note on his bedside table. Already sensing something she did not want to face, she reached over and opened the note.

_Granger –_

_Last night happened because of a bet I had going with Blaise. Forget everything. _

_- Malfoy_

Hot tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. Rejection, rejection, rejection – it coursed through her body and through her mind, burning all happy sensations she had had previously. Her heart thudded, and she started panicking: a side reaction she always had when faced with shocking news. This was beyond shock – this was a slap in the face and to her heart. It crushed her.

To think that she had actually trusted him! She had been an idiot, a fool to have thought that he had feelings for her. He didn't give a shit about her, that much was obvious. So had the past few weeks been a charade to simply get her in bed?

_Of course_, she thought. Here she'd been thinking that he'd changed, that he'd become a new person, and yet _Draco_ was still _Malfoy_. He had not changed one bit. And the note...he seemed to be dismissing her, like the mudblood that she was. She'd caught the use of her surname – so it was back to Granger again, was it? She choked slightly on her sobs, her tears dropping on his emerald sheets, leaving dark circles.

She felt used, like any of the other girls he usually slept with. He'd just wanted her virginity – she should have known. Her body felt tainted and dirty, marked by his betraying touch. His jade sheets glimmered back at her in the sunlight mockingly. They taunted her...seeming to say, "_you got played_!" Rubbing at her tear-stained cheeks, she rose out of his bed, grabbing her clothes off the floor. She couldn't stop the flow of tears as she moved, blurring her vision, and she made sure she grabbed her wand before running to her room.

She threw herself into the shower, scrubbing her skin red, trying to rid herself of the memories of last night and the treachery that had been lying behind his concerned eyes all this time. She suddenly widened her eyes.

They'd had unprotected sex.

She jumped out of the shower, grabbing her wand. The contraceptive spell had been muttered teasingly between students everywhere in the school so much that everyone had memorised it. It had now become common to add the spell words into any normal conversation, and as a result, it was being used by students, mostly seventh-years. Hermione knew she only had one hour after she woke up to perform the spell, or it wouldn't work. She cast the spell on her lower stomach, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Once she was done showering, she started dressing herself silently, although tears continued flowing freely down her cheeks. She'd remembered that the Quidditch match was today. _He_ was going to playing against Harry and Ron. Her heart sank just at the thought.

But she had to support the Gryffindor team, no matter the state of battered heart. She thought of _him _and her blood boiled. Fury rose in her as she thought of his betrayal, and she saw red. There was no way he was going to get away with this.

*

*

*

"Welcome, wizards and witches of all houses, to the first Quidditch match of the season, in which there will be a guest appearance of Gimbnets!"

The crowd roared, collectively laughing as they applauded Luna, their commentator who had become a school favourite. The stands were packed, and the air was cool, unaffected by the November sun. The spectators had taken sides – most of the left half was a large mass of silver and green, while the right was a solid block of crimson and gold. The players were zooming around the stands, warming up for the game. The crowd jeered at Luna's original hat. She had not been allowed to take sides, as she was a commentator, so she had modified her usual lionhead hat to also include a rearing serpent; the two animals roared and hissed at each other, causing Luna's head to move along with their defensive actions.

Hermione took a deep breath. She was standing in a cluster of Gryffindors, all cheering excitedly. She did not feel like being here at all, and yet she knew that she was better off in the midst of many people where she was not in danger of hurting herself. Besides, who would she turn to? Harry and Ron were currently up in the air, and so was Ginny, although she was sure Ginny wouldn't give a damn about Hermione. She forced herself to look up at Draco's form high in the air, looking small from down here. He was flying in a large circle, higher than everyone else. She wondered what he was thinking about.

"Everyone," sang Luna, "let's count down before Madam Hooch's whistle! Three," everyone joined in with Luna, "two," the players lined up on opposite sides of each other; Harry grasped the Slytherin captain Flint's hand roughly, "ONE!"

On Madam Hooch's whistle, the teams separated, whizzing in many directions. The crowd cheered wildly, turning their heads this way and that excitedly as they watched the players flying past them at breakneck speeds.

"And there goes Pucey of Slytherin with the Quaffle!" said Luna happily. "Funny, how Pucey is wearing puce-coloured robes today. I don't think they're green at all..."

The crowd laughed at her words. Hermione tried not to let the Gryffindors around her overwhelm her senses. She gazed up again at Draco, his pale blond hair recognizable even from this distance. He and Harry were on opposite sides of the field, high in the air, searching for the Snitch.

"Ginny Weasley has stolen the Quaffle...I knew she would, she's a nice person," commented Luna. "In fact, I think she's scored..."

Professor McGonagall's voice was suddenly heard, appearing to be suffering immensely from Luna's commentating. "Thirty-forty to Slytherin!"

Katie Bell scored, evening out the score, but Derrick and Bole, the Slytherin beaters seemed to be pulling all the old dirty tricks, and were hitting the Gryffindor chasers at opportune moments.

"Now, that's not nice...you must say sorry!" chided Luna, half-dreamily. Bole had waited just until the Bludger was two feet from Demelza and had hit it with such force that she was seriously injured.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle as Madam Pomfrey walked onto the field. She drew her wand, and Demelza seemed to float, unconscious toward her, still on her broom. The crowd was hushed for a moment as they watched Pomfrey mend Demelza's face, which was bloody. The Gryffindor team huddled around Demelza, worried about the loss of a player mid-game. They heard a laugh from above; it was Flint. He was surrounded by the Slytherin team, all of who had evil smirks on their faces.

Hermione gazed up at them, jeering and pointing at the worried Gryffindors. She did not see Draco laughing, however. He was with his team, but his face was serious, concentrated, his eyebrows furrowed. He swivelled on his broom precisely at the moment that Hermione looked up at him.

Their eyes met; Draco's were rounded, surprised at finding her there in the stands. Hermione looked back at him vehemently, her gaze furious. Even from such a distance, Draco felt his insides burn as she glared back at him.

Her mouth opened to form around words that certainly did not come with good intentions.

He knew then that he was doomed.

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**A/N:** please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

_**~Veralena**_


	18. Chapter 17

A/N: updates might get a little slow from here on...as im getting rather busy. so forgive me if i can't update on a more regular basis. but no worries! the story goes on...

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Chapter 17**

Draco couldn't concentrate on the game after that. She seemed to have put a spell on him, or rather a jinx or curse that did not allow him to think properly. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't focus on the task at hand. He was flying all right, but he could hear his team members calling out to him, urging him to catch the Snitch. They had been playing for over an hour now, and the Slytherins couldn't withhold the strong Gryffindors anymore.

He saw Potter at the far end of the stadium, racing towards something, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't communicate to his brain that he wanted to race after the Snitch. He couldn't force his body to move.

He felt a punch to his shoulder; turning around, eyes watering from the pain and the cold weather, he saw Flint yelling something at him, but he couldn't tell his brain to hear what he was saying. He gazed dizzily around him, the crowds below seeming like a multicolored blur. Suddenly Madam Hooch's whistle was heard, and he knew it was over.

He saw Flint fly away from him, and he felt himself spiraling downward on his broom. The cold air whipped past him, pulling at his emerald robes, as he went down, down, down.

And then everything went black.

*

*

*

"Oh...Draco! Oh no! Oh no! Oh sweet Merlin, if it means to take away my life, please save my itty bitty Draky-poo!"

Draco opened his eyes blearily, blinking a few times before finally looking around him. He was in the Hospital Wing, surrounded by a weeping Pansy and a solemn-looking Blaise. Crabbe and Goyle were in the far corner, looking like bodyguards with their arms crossed.

" 'Bout time, fuckface," said Blaise by means of a greeting.

"Draky-poo! You're awake!" cooed Pansy, leaning over his bed-ridden body. "It's because he heard my voice," she said to Blaise, her eyes wide.

"What happened?" asked Draco, gesturing around him. He felt quite fine, perhaps a bit exhausted, but didn't understand why he needed to be in the Hospital Wing for that.

"Minor concussion," replied Blaise. "You almost smashed headfirst into the ground when you blacked out."

"Almost?"

"Dumbledore conjured some kind of gigantic fluffy thing right where you fell. It was pretty cool, actually," added Blaise, smiling. "I think it's just the impact of it that caused the concussion."

"I was so worried!" exclaimed Pansy, grasping Draco's hand. He jerked away from her, ignoring her comment.

"So I can leave, then?" asked Draco, noticing there were no medications on his bedside table.

"Yep," said Blaise. "Pomfrey just wanted us to wake you up so we can take you back."

Pansy squared her shoulders, leaning over the side of the bed so Draco had a perfect view down her small, lacy shirt. "I can't _wait_ to take you back," she said with a wink.

"Shut up, Pansy," said Draco. "Now leave, I have stuff to discuss with Blaise."

Pansy's mouth widened in indignation and surprise. "But -,"

"And take Crabbe and Goyle with you," added Draco, looking away from her.

Pansy's mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Turning on her heel, she stomped away, pulling Draco's two cronies with her.

"What's with the dismissal, man?" asked Blaise when they had left. "You know she only wants to blow you."

"Shut up," said Draco, raising himself on one elbow to look at Blaise in the eye. "I need to tell you something."

Blaise frowned confusedly, but nodded nevertheless. Draco took a deep breath.

"I slept with Granger."

Blaise's face lightened in surprise. "WHAT? Holy shit, man, that's fucking brilliant!" He looked at Draco admiringly. "Well, I have to admit, you won the bet pretty damn fast! Shit, I owe you five hundred galleons..."

"It's not like that," started Draco uneasily. He wasn't sure if he should even be telling this to Blaise, but somehow he felt like he had to.

"What do you mean?" asked Blaise, shrugging and still grinning appreciatively at Draco's conquest. "You fuckin' bagged the hottest girl in the school!"

"Blaise...," said Draco, his eyes wavering, "I think...I like her."

Blaise's grin dropped like a dead fly.

"What?"

"I like...Granger."

"What the FUCK did you just say?"

"You heard me."

Blaise's eyes rounded, staring at Draco incredulously. "ARE YOU FUCKING OUT OF YOUR MIND? She's a fucking Mudblood! She doesn't have any pure blood in her! And she's a fucking GRYFFINDOR! Not to mention she's best friends with bloody Potter!"

"I know! I know!" said Draco heatedly, annoyed at Blaise's response, although he had predicted it. "It's not exactly something I can help."

"Help? Help? Of course you can help it! You can bloody well stop yourself from falling in love with MUGGLES!"

"I'm not..." Draco's voice faltered, wondering if he really was in love with her. He pushed it out of his mind and focused again on Blaise. "Listen, I don't know when it happened or why it did. All I know is that I like her, I slept with her, and then I left her. And now she's pissed as hell."

Blaise face lightened. "But this is perfect! You left her! You can move on, no harm done!"

"Except for the fact that I LIKE her. And she hates me."

Blaise shook his head sadly. "I don't know what's wrong with you man."

"You're the only one who knows. And fuck what you think, and what other people think. I'm Draco Malfoy. I can do whatever the hell I want. I was stupid to leave her, I should have..." his voice trailed off again, realising how much his words were right. He had been an idiot to let his damn ego in the way of him and Hermione.

"Whatever," said Blaise, crossing his arms decidedly. "Just remember that even though I won't tell anyone, I don't support this. At all. You were only supposed to sleep with the Mudblood, not want to marry her and give her babies."

"I don't -,"

"I'll shut up about it. But don't ask me any more favors. Ever."

Draco nodded and got up from the bed, following Blaise to the Slytherin Common Room.

*

*

*

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione closed the door behind her. She was standing in Professor McGonagall's office. McGonagall looked old and weary, clutching a withered handkerchief in her hand as she sat in her mahogany chair.

"Yes, Professor?" asked Hermione, sitting down opposite her.

"Albus has scheduled a select staff meeting tonight, after curfew," said McGonagall, stopping momentarily to sneeze into her handkerchief. "Would you and Mr. Malfoy mind observing the hallways in our absence?"

"No!" yelled Hermione, cringing at Draco's name. Looking ashamedly at McGonagall's surprised face, she lowered her voice. "I mean...is it really necessary, Professor?"

"Of course it is, Miss Granger!" said McGonagall, taken aback. "This is your and Mr. Malfoy's duty as Head Boy and Head Girl!"

"I...uh...I'm sorry, Professor," said Hermione, looking down.

"Miss Granger," started McGonagall, "is everything all right between the two of you?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Yes," she said, grinding her teeth as she spoke, "it's all fine."

McGonagall stared at Hermione for a while, her gaze as piercing as Dumbledore's, and then sighed heavily. "Very well. I can station you and Mr. Malfoy at opposite ends of the castle, if that is more preferable. I have already spoken to him and he has agreed to patrol the corridors."

"Oh...uh, all right."

Professor McGonagall nodded, indicating to Hermione that she was free to go. Hermione got up and left the office, deep in thought.

She hadn't seen Draco in nearly a week. Funny, how easy it was to avoid people in such a limited environment. He hadn't come up to their Common Room, so she had assumed he was sneaking into the Slytherin dorms every night. This suited her fine, as her anger had not extinguished, and she had no intention of speaking to him ever again.

She smiled triumphantly every time she thought of the jinx she had put on him in the midst of the Quidditch game. Unbeknownst to them, the Gryffindor team had profited from Hermione's interference. She had seen Draco's vacant expression, and knew that her jinx had worked. She hadn't waited to see anymore. As soon as she saw Harry reaching for the Snitch, and Flint yelling angrily at Draco, she had left the stadium. She wondered if Draco was hiding in the Slytherin dormitories to avoid the shame of losing the Quidditch game so badly.

Every time she thought of him, anger surged through her. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to see him tonight.

*

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*

The torches were lit, illuminating the dark corridors. The portraits were sleeping soundly, some of them snoring as they rested on the corners of their frames. The light emanating from the walls caused the dark shadows on the floor to elongate. The castle was completely silent, completely asleep.

Except for two students.

Hermione strode on in the library corridor. There were no portraits here, only long tapestries that cascaded down from the ceiling. With her wand clutched in her hand, she took slow steps forward, her heart squeezed tight from fear. She was afraid of being alone in the dark, and even the torches were dim, placed far apart so that every few meters would be covered in pure blackness. She took deep breaths and tried wiping her palms on her robe.

Suddenly, she heard the lightest footsteps behind her. She stood still. The footsteps stopped. Someone was following her. Her heart released itself from the tight squeezing and instead started pounding loudly against her chest. She continued walking, her ears pricked up to hear the faintest change in sound. The footsteps were growing louder, and she could begin to hear breathing. The sound was getting louder –

"Hermione?"

She gasped, turning around while clutching her chest; her eyes alighted on Draco, standing there with his hand outstretched towards her.

"What the hell?" she exclaimed, trying to slow her breathing. He was looking at her with an odd expression. It was questioning, confused, expectant. Hermione felt desire run through her body as she looked at his face for the first time in a week. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be near him. She took in his handsome, pale face, his pointed chin, and his piercing gray eyes. She took in his shirt, with the signature collar turned up and the sleeves rolled to his elbows. She took in the green Slytherin tie that hung loosely around his neck, and looked back up again to his silvery blond hair that covered his forehead.

And then she reminded herself what it was that had caused the distance between them, and red-hot fury seeped back into her body. She thought back to the moment when she had found the letter on his side table, and his words floated through her mind again. _Last night happened because of a bet_. Tears began prickling at the corners of her eyes, and she turned away from him to hide herself. _Forget everything_.

"Wait, Hermione."

A shuddering breath stole over her as she heard her name uttered from his mouth. His deep voice rumbled, like thunder, and crashing waves of desire and anger fought with each other.

"Please, just listen to me."

Hermione reached up and wiped her eyes vehemently, turning fiercely towards him.

"Why?" she hissed. "Why should I? Did you ever give _me_ a chance to listen to what _I_ had to say?"

Draco walked towards her, trying to lay a hand on her arm, but she moved away from him.

"Don't. Touch. Me," said Hermione, her voice quivering.

It was dark where they were, in front of a blank space of wall that was far away from the torches, but she could see his eyes glinting, pleading almost. It seemed like a confession bubbled behind his surface, and she definitely wanted to hear it, no matter how much time it took.

This was going to be a long night.

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**A/N:** please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

_**~Veralena**_


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N:** sorry for the horrendously long wait! i wrote a really intense chapter to make up for it. hope u guys like it!

this chapter is rated M.

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Chapter 18**

"What do you want, Malfoy?" asked Hermione, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

"I just want you to listen. Please," pleaded Draco, his eyebrows furrowed, his face beseeching.

Hermione turned her face away, but remained silent. Draco took a deep breath.

"That note that I left you..." he started, "was a lie."

Hermione sniffled. "Didn't seem like it."

"Trust me! It was!"

"I can never trust you again..."

"Hermione, please."

Silence.

"Okay," Draco breathed, "it's true that Blaise and I had a bet going to see if I could sleep with you before Christmas."

Hermione's face crumpled in disbelief, and her lips started trembling. Draco sped up to avoid the danger zone.

"But that's not how it worked out! I honestly had no idea that I'd...feel differently. The truth is, Hermione, I've started liking you...a lot." Her eyes rounded slightly, but she continued looking away. "And it's not just because I slept with you! No...it's just something that grew, I guess. The first face I see every morning is yours. And you...get me. You don't just want to sleep with me because of the reputation, like all the other girls do."

Hermione glared at him. "Oh, so it's back to you, isn't it? _Your_ reputation. Can't you ever be unselfish for one second?"

"What are you _talking_ about?" said Draco desperately. "Here I am trying to tell you how I feel, which is pretty hard by the way -,"

"And we're back to you again."

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!" roared Draco, and Hermione fell silent at once. His deep voice echoed off the walls, as well as the sound of his heavy breathing.

"Hermione," he started again in a calm voice, "when I left you that morning...I didn't want to. I was being an idiot. You're right. I was being selfish and just thinking about myself and what would happen if people found out. But when I was in the Hospital Wing, I got to think it over -,"

"What? The Hospital Wing?" asked Hermione, all anger forgotten.

He stared at her face, completely devoid of any hint of triumph. "You can't be serious? You nearly jinxed me to death!"

She furrowed her eyebrows confusedly. "What? No! It was just a..." she blushed ashamedly, looking down, "just a simple hex to temporarily befuddle your senses. Not to hurt you!"

"Well, I spent a day in the Hospital Wing because of you!"

He was pleased to see that her eyes became worried. "Did you break something?"

"Yeah. My heart."

Hermione turned away from him, rolling her eyes, and started walking away. "Stop lying."

"I'm not lying, Hermione. Listen, how can I make it up to you?"

"Leave me alone."

"You don't know how it feels -,"

She suddenly whirled around. "Oh,_ I_ don't know how it feels? You're asking _me_ that, Malfoy? Really? After the most important night of my entire life, you left me in the morning with the worst slap in the face a girl could possibly get. And you think I _don't_ know how it feels?"

"I know, Hermione, I know. And I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I'll do anything!"

She turned on her heel again. "Oh, how cliché, Malfoy."

"What the fuck, Hermione? Here I am, saying sorry -,"

"I don't need your apologies, Malfoy."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you to leave me alone!"

He grasped her arm tightly, stopping her and whirling her around to face him. Breathing heavily, he looked down at her, his face taut. "Don't pull this on me, Hermione."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Let me go, Malfoy."

He tightened his hold on her. "Not until you forgive me."

"You're hurting me!"

"Say you forgive me!" he said, his eyes glaringly red, his nostrils flared from fury. Their faces were separated by inches, and they could feel each other's breath on their faces.

"I won't. Now let me go."

She tried wrestling her arm away, but he only strengthened his grasp. Angered to the point to madness, Hermione raised her hand and slapped his face.

His cheek burned red, and he turned his face towards her, shaking.

"You...bitch." And he pushed her all the way into the wall, her back hitting it with a thud.

"Fuck you!" screamed Hermione, hitting and kicking any inch of him that she could reach, but he'd already pinned down her arms to the wall, smashing his body against hers.

"Yes," he breathed into her ear, "I _will_ fuck you."

And he crashed his lips onto hers, pushing his tongue into her mouth. He could hear muffled noises coming from the back of her throat and simply captured her against the wall, trailing his hands down her skin and pulling at her hair. She took advantage of his distraction by attempting to push him away, but her tiny fists were nothing on his broad chest. There was no escape.

But she could feel that same clenching sensation in her stomach she got every time she was with Draco, and she couldn't deny that her panties were beginning to feel quite wet. Despite that fact, she was pissed as hell, and no way was Draco going to get away with this.

"Get off me, you bastard!" she yelped, when he finally left her lips to attack her neck instead. She drew in a sharp breath when he suddenly bit down, leaving a mark just above her collarbone.

She hit the side of his head with her free hand, but he easily grabbed both her hands with one of his, pinning them high above her head. With the other hand, he ripped open the front of her shirt, frantically pulling down her bra to expose her luscious breasts. Her nipples were standing from the cold air, and he immediately licked the rosy skin, making her knees tremble and a low, guttural moan escape from her lips.

"See? You're enjoying this...like the bitch you are," added Draco, sneering.

"You're a fucking bastard, Malfoy!" hissed Hermione, rage surging through her veins, as well as an aching need to have him fill her.

He placed one of his large hands around her breast, cupping and kneading it. Suddenly he bent down, placing his lips on the soft skin. His tongue twirled around her nipple, caressing it, and Hermione was doing everything she could not to have her knees collapse from the ecstasy of the feeling. She drew a sharp intake of breath when she felt his teeth pull lightly at her nipple, which only seemed to fill her with more pleasure.

His hand smoothed over her body, stopping at the edge of her skirt. Without a word, he'd gotten under it, and flicked a finger over her white panties.

"I knew it..." said Draco smugly, "you're wet."

Hermione struggled against his grasp. "Let me go, Malfoy!"

But this only seemed to remind him that he was holding her captive, and he strengthened his hold on her arms.

"Come on," he purred dangerously, "I won't hurt you..."

"Like I can believe that!"

He simply smirked, and crooked a finger over the top of her panties. In one motion, he'd taken them off and thrown them against the opposing wall.

Hermione shook with pleasure and anger. "Bastard."

His smirk only grew wider as he leaned in towards her crotch. "Let's see that delicious pussy, shall we?"

Hermione crossed her legs, trying to shield herself from him, but he simply pushed a hand through, exposing the delectable folds of her swollen skin. He sniffed her scent, and placed a thumb on her clit. Her knees buckled as the sudden jolt sent waves of pleasure all the way down to her toes.

He began rubbing in circles, spreading her juices, and occasionally licking his fingers to savor the taste. When he pushed a finger into her opening, she gasped.

"Whore," he said, looking up at her face.

"Asshole," she replied, narrowing her eyes.

He shoved both his index and middle fingers in, moving them inside of her body and making her moans become louder and louder. Her back was arching, her eyes closing, and her hips were moving in movement with his fingers. His hand was almost completely wet, and he could feel his erection stretching tightly against his pants as he took in the dewy softness of her folds.

As soon as he withdrew his fingers, her eyes opened and the rage came back.

"How dare you even..." she trailed off. She fixed him with a stare, and suddenly his hands started burning.

"Aah!" he yelped, letting go of her limbs. He looked at his palms; they were bright red and stinging. With a triumphant look on her face, Hermione took control of Draco's distraction and grabbed his shoulders, switching their positions so Draco's back hit the wall instead. Surprised, he looked at her confusedly.

"Before you even say anything," she started in a low whisper, "shut the _fuck_ up, you evil, low-lying bastard." And she plunged her hands into his pants.

Stunned, Draco leaned against the wall as her small hands enveloped his length, enjoying the feel of her soft palms. He heard a zipping noise.

Hermione's eyes widened slightly at the sight before her. She had only glimpsed it the first time they had made love. She thought his cock to be quite big, even with her inexperience. She looked up into his face, and he was smirking at her, obviously quite proud of himself. Narrowing her eyes, she opened her mouth and took him in.

Draco groaned, leaning back against the wall and steadying himself with his hands. He had had his cock sucked before, but not like this. To see Hermione's face, flushed rosy pink, her eyes concentrated on him, her lips wet with his precum...it was driving him wild. It was an odd feeling, to want a person so badly, and to be so utterly irritated with them at the same time. He was starting to get hot, so he unbuttoned his shirt and cast it onto the floor. Gulping in a few uneven breaths, he placed a hand on the back of Hermione's head and urged her to go deeper. She retaliated by grazing her teeth roughly on his soft foreskin.

"Fuck, Hermione!" he yelled. The short trail of her teeth on his skin burned, but it felt instantly better when she licked it back and forth with her tongue and then blew on it lightly. She looked up into his face. He had closed his eyes again, leaning his head back against the wall. Wrapping her lips around him tightly, she sucked harder and harder, ignoring the discomfiting feeling of his hardness at the back of her throat. Reaching with her hands, she grabbed his balls, playing with them, teasing them. She could hear him groaning deeply. Narrowing her eyes, she squeezed his balls tightly.

Draco drew a sharp breath, opening his eyes angrily. His lips were pulled down at the corners, giving him a furious look. "That's it," he hissed. "You're getting it."

Grabbing Hermione by the shoulders, he pulled her up roughly. Surprised, she stumbled, but his strong arms caught her around the waist. He switched their positions again by smashing her against the wall. Their breath mingled, their limbs intertwined, and their anger and annoyance was mutual. Raising her skirt quickly, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up, right around his hips. Reaching down, he placed his length at her opening and plunged in.

"Aah!" yelped Hermione, as his swollen member filled her body. She was trying to stay steady as he pumped into her over and over again, but she would be damned if she used him as her support. Looking up, she noticed an unlighted sconce. Grabbing it with both hands, she used her arm muscles and pulled herself up so she was face to face with Draco. Seeing that she was holding the sconce, he let go of her waist and placed his hands on either side of her on the brick wall. This allowed him to thrust deeper and deeper inside her slick walls.

"Ungh, go faster...you bastard!" she called out, half moaning, half yelling. Tightening her legs around his hips, she attempted to urge his body closer to her by pushing with her feet on his backside. As Draco thrust faster and faster into her, the sweat started pouring from his forehead. Little droplets were beginning to gather on the long blond strands of his hair. Frantically wiping away at his face, he bent down and began assaulting one of Hermione's nipples.

"Oh...shit...Draco..." moaned Hermione, a light purring noise coming from the back of her throat.

He reached down and gave her a tight slap on her ass. "That's right, bitch, say my name."

Both their bodies were gleaming from the sweat as Draco's long member plunged in and out of Hermione's body. The tightness of her walls was overwhelming him, as well as the wonderful feeling of her voluptuous breasts against his hard chest. Their nipples touched, and an electric shock coursed through them. Seeing her mouth open and her eyes closed in bliss made him come closer and closer to the edge.

"YES! YES!" screamed Hermione, arching her back and bucking her hips against his. "Ungh...please don't stop!"

Grateful to oblige, he pummelled into her over and over again, feeling the pressure on his dick reach its maximum point. Finally, with one last thrust, they came.

"Oh...shit..." groaned Draco, collapsing on Hermione's body, sandwiching her against the wall. She was breathing heavily, as was he. Both their bodies were slick with sweat, and he could feel her juices mingled with his pouring down his legs. Her body was still shuddering from her climax, making her thighs twitch against his hips. She could still feel him within her, still slightly hard, his cum deep in her womb. His legs finally gave away, and he let go of her, stumbling against the wall opposite her.

Though he had not removed her skirt, nor her bra, she felt cold as soon as he left her. Fixing her shirt and covering herself up again, she looked around for her panties in the darkness. He had zipped up his pants and worn his shirt again, looking at her from the opposite wall. The minimal light was causing dark shadows under his eyes as he watched her. Feeling awkward, she leaned down to put on her panties again and then leaned against the wall. They were staring at each other.

There was complete silence other than their heavy breathing.

"So..." started Draco, cocking his eyebrows hesitantly, "you forgive me?"

Hermione's lips twitched. His question seemed rather funny, especially after what they had just done. Her lips started curving upwards as he looked at her, mirroring her expression.

"_That's right, bitch, say my name?_" hissed Hermione scathingly, although her eyes twinkled. "I don't think forgiveness is in your future, Malfoy."

"_Shut the fuck up, you evil, low-lying bastard?_" he snapped back. "I didn't even know you could speak like that, Granger."

"So we're back to surnames, I see," commented Hermione, folding her arms.

"You started it."

"Oh, don't be a child."

Draco smirked; the corners of his eyes creasing into that delectable look he always gave Hermione. They could both tell things had somewhat gone back to normal.

"Come on, Granger," said Draco, walking towards her and pressing his hand at the small of her back, "let's go back to our Common Room. I miss it."

Hermione could feel the shivers running through her body at his words and at the touch of his hand. It was amazing how after mind-blowing angry sex, the smallest gesture could still make her feel giddy.

"Fine," she said, her face beaming in the darkness. "But get your hands off me, ferretboy."

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**A/N:** please **REVIEW **if u want an update!

_**~Veralena**_


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N:** again, sorry for the huge delay. i've been super busy lately. no worries, though, i havent forgotten the story. hope you like this chapter!

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Chapter 19**

"Malfoy, where are my knickers?"

Hermione was wrapped in her towel, just having come out of the shower. She had Transfiguration first, and if she didn't hurry up, she would be late.

"Seriously, Malfoy! I'm going to be late for Transfiguration!" she yelled from her room.

With her hands on her hips, she marched over to his bedroom, stomping in to see Draco fully dressed and fixing his hair in the mirror.

"Damn, Granger," he said once he saw her reflection in the mirror. "Let me take that off for you."

Hermione bit back a smile and retightened her towel under her arms. She watched as his eyes started first at her face and her wet, curly locks, then trailed down her smooth arms, stopping at the tiny tents her nipples created on the towel. Smirking, he gazed all the way down to her bare thighs and shapely legs. That towel left little to the imagination.

"I left my clothes, including my knickers, on my bed!" exclaimed Hermione, folding her arms. "Where are they?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, smirking as he turned back toward the mirror. "How should I know?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and walked around his room, checking under his bedcovers, behind the door to his bathroom, in his side tables. He simply watched her in the mirror while continuing to groom his hair.

"Okay, how about this?" he said finally, laughing as she bent down to look under his bed. "If I find them for you, I get to put them on."

"You want to wear my knickers?" giggled Hermione.

He rolled his eyes. "NO! I'll put them on you. Although I prefer you without anything on at all."

Hermione gave him a playful look. "Fine."

Draco reached into his pocket and slipped out the black lacy knickers.

"Cheater!" exclaimed Hermione, unable to stop the grin from spreading on her face anyways.

He smirked. "Good choice, Granger," he said, examining the knickers approvingly. He swaggered over to her until he was towering over her lithe frame. "Now off with the towel."

Hermione, blushing profusely, moved her hands towards the hem of the towel, but he stopped her.

"Actually," he said, his eyes twinkling, "allow me."

He traced a light finger across her collarbone, making her shiver with delight, and slowly loosened the towel around her body. As it fell away, a greedy thirstiness took over his face. His eyes trailed over her full, firm breasts, her nipples just begging to be touched, her flat stomach with that cute bellybutton of hers, and the soft folds at the peak of her legs. Hermione watched his face, feeling proud that she could make him salivate over her body this way.

"You know what, Granger?" he said, his voice raspy. "You're fucking beautiful."

Hermione tried to restrain her smile, glowing like fireworks inside. "Are you going to put on those knickers on me, or what?"

He smirked, bending down to allow her to step into her knickers. Slowly, he pulled them up on her, his hands resting on her hips for the shortest moment.

"Thanks," she said, grabbing her towel up from the floor. "Now I've got to go."

"See you later, Granger," he said, slapping her ass as she walked off.

Hermione managed somehow not to turn back around and padded over to her room, shutting the door behind her. Giggling, she jumped up and down for two whole minutes.

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"And as you can see, the spoon morphs instantly into a -,"

Hermione walked in the door to Transfiguration, only to find a startled Professor McGonagall and a tiny meerkat with its paws clutched to its chest.

"Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall, slightly surprised, "are you all right?"

"Yes, Professor," said Hermione, blushing. Everyone in the classroom was staring at her. "Just um...slept in, that's all."

McGonagall did not look convinced. "Hm...very well then, Miss Granger. Take your seat."

Hermione stared at the floor as she walked over to the vacant spot next to Harry.

"Why were you really late?" whispered Harry, moving his books off her side of the desk.

"Um..." she mumbled, avoiding his eyes, "I'll tell you later."

"Are you coming tonight?" asked Harry.

"Where?"

Harry's face brightened. "The Quidditch after-party! We won, remember?"

Hermione smiled. "Oh...of course, I'll come! I'm so glad you guys won -,"

"Late, _and_ interrupting, Miss Granger?" called out Professor McGonagall's voice sternly. "You may have your conversation with Mister Potter afterwards."

Hermione and Harry glanced at each other sheepishly and opened their books.

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"Hermione! Hermione! Wait!"

Hermione was walking back from Transfiguration, trying to avoid bumping into the crowds of students going to their next class. Turning around, she saw the last person who would want to talk to her – Ron.

His ginger hair flopping, he caught up to her and gazed down at her hesitantly.

"Ron," whispered Hermione.

"Look," he said, trying to be heard over the hundreds of people milling around them, "I'm not good at these kinds of things, but I'll just say it." He took a deep breath, "I'm sorry."

Hermione's heart lifted instantly, feeling relief surging through her body. It had been awkward to not talk to Ron. He was, after all, her closest friend after Harry.

"It's okay, Ron," she said, smiling radiantly at him.

"Harry told me about...Ginny," he said, his eyebrows furrowing. He was silent for a moment. Then he burst out laughing. "Ha! Imagine the look on Dean's face!" His laughter subsided somewhat. "Well, better Harry than Dean."

"Harry really regrets it, you know," said Hermione, "breaking up with her and all that. But he still really loves her."

Ron sighed heavily. "Yeah, I know...So, are we good?"

Hermione beamed. "Definitely."

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Hermione floated through the rest of the day. Blissfully aware that things were back to normal with her two best friends, she couldn't help smiling at the smallest things, such as Neville dropping his frogspawn all over the floor, Professor Flitwik scolding a laughing Seamus, and Luna singing quietly to herself in a corner of the room. Everything felt right with the world.

There was only one cloud on the horizon that remained – Ginny. She knew her actions in the past few months had been severely detrimental to their friendship, but she was determined to fix it all.

And so, she watched Ginny during lunch, talking animatedly with some of her sixth-year friends on the far end of the Gryffindor table. One or two times, Hermione was sure she caught Ginny glancing furtively at Harry, although he had no idea. Maybe Harry's plan had worked after all...

After a while, Ginny and her friends got up. As she walked by Harry, Ron and Hermione, Ginny gave a look full of loathing to Hermione. Just then Harry turned around to see Ginny walk away with a slight sway to her hips. She must have known he'd be watching. As she and her friends stalked away, Harry's face fell, obviously saddened that Ginny hated him now. Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, and he turned around to face her. She gave him a look of understanding, and got up.

She followed Ginny's group at a distance. They seemed to be heading outside. Lowering her head in case Ginny turned around and saw, she walked silently. Suddenly, she felt an arm on her waist.

"And where do you think you're going?" said a deep voice in her ear.

Instantly melting, she turned around to find Draco's handsome face gazing down at her.

"Hey..." she smiled, melding her body to his. She suddenly remembered where she was.

"Malfoy!" she hissed. "Someone will see!"

His smirk grew. "Who gives a damn?" He bent down to trace his long nose against her cheek. "I haven't seen you around all day."

Hermione sighed, completely amazed with this change in character. She had no idea he could be so caring.

Drawing away from him, she looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry, but I really have to go now."

"What? Why?"

"I have to find Ginny!"

"Screw her."

She placed both her hands on his chest and tried moving away from him. "No, Malfoy! I have to talk to her! She hates me right now."

Draco groaned. "Ugh! Fine."

Hermione stroked his cheek. "I'm sorry. I'll see you later."

He moved away from her touch. "Yeah, yeah...spare me the pity. Go." He granted her a small smirk. Smiling, she turned around and ran outside.

The sun immediately blinded her, shining bright and yellow in her face. Blinking furiously, she looked around. It was a beautiful day, but freezing cold. The trees swayed in the slight wind, the water in the Great Lake shone brightly, sparkling like a river of diamonds. Many people were outside, sitting huddled in circles with their coats wrapped around them. Feeling stupid that she hadn't brought her own coat, she took out her wand and placed a heating charm on herself. Noticing Ginny and her small group of friends by the lake, she walked towards them.

As she drew closer, Ginny's friends gave her awkward stares, demanding with their eyes why she was there. Hermione came to a halt when she was near enough. They immediately stopped talking.

"Uh...hi," started Hermione, biting her lip. "Erm...can I talk to Ginny for a minute?"

Ginny cocked her eyebrows, folding her arms and staring at her meanly for a second before replying.

"It had better _be_ just a minute."

Then she followed Hermione away from her friends until they reached the old beech tree Harry, Ron and Hermione always sat under. Ginny turned brusquely around to face Hermione, keeping her arms folded and her eyes guarded, waiting for Hermione to speak.

"Ginny, you're one of my closest friends and I love you. I would never want to hurt your feelings. But you have to understand that Harry's my best friend, and he asked me to help him. Harry still has feelings for you. He loves you! He's so desperately in love that he asked me to help him make you jealous so that you'd like him again!"

Ginny's face relaxed from the angry expression it had held before, biting back a tiny grin at Hermione's confusing words.

"Listen," continued Hermione, "Harry was tired of being ignored by you. He wanted another chance with you. So he asked me if I could pretend to be his girlfriend. That's why we kissed at the party! Because he wanted to make you jealous! I don't even _like_ Harry like that! I like someone else! Harry's like my brother. If you're my friend, Ginny, then you'll believe me. You'll believe that Harry is madly in love with you."

Ginny was silent for a long moment. A look passed between the two girls. Ginny seemed to be contemplating Hermione's words. Then –

"Who do you like?" asked Ginny.

Hermione laughed, and so did Ginny. The two of them hugged, clasping each other warmly. Hermione drew back, still laughing at Ginny's words.

"Out of everything I just said, all that registers is who_ I_ like?"

Ginny smiled. "Well, tell me!"

"Erm...just a secret crush, that's all."

Not one to push further, Ginny's face brightened. "So Harry's really in love with me, then?"

"Completely and utterly in love, more like."

"Ugh! I can't _believe_ all this time went by...when he could have just talked to me!"

Hermione shrugged. "You know him...he's not good with feelings and all that."

"So he goes and makes out with his best friend?" accused Ginny lightly.

"Trust me, it was very, very weird. You saw what happened at the end."

Recognition crossed Ginny's face. "Right...Malfoy and Harry battled it out. But why Malfoy? Don't tell me he's in love with you!" laughed Ginny.

Hermione's heart raced nervously, and she laughed uneasily as well. "Ahaha...no, of course not. Probably just an excuse to fight with Harry. You know how they hate each other."

"Yeah..." Ginny looked far off into the Forest for a while, obviously thinking about something else. She turned again to Hermione. "Do you think it can work? Between me and Harry, I mean."

"Of course it can! But he thinks you hate him right now. You have to talk to him!"

"But...I don't know..." Ginny bit her lip. "It's nerve-wracking! I haven't properly talked to him, or even properly looked at him for so long. I don't know what to say, I'm not even sure if -,"

"Oh, stop blubbering!" interrupted Hermione. "It's not like you! The Ginny I know always knows what she's doing. I'm sure you'll think of something." Hermione thought for a moment. "What about that Quidditch party tonight? You have to come, you're part of the team! And Harry will be there, so..."

Ginny's face cleared. "Yes! That'll be perfect!"

Hermione smiled. "Why don't you come over to my dorm tonight before the party? We can get ready together!"

"That'll be great. But, um, how do I get there?"

"Tell you what," said Hermione, "we'll go up after dinner. That way you won't get lost."

Ginny grinned. "Great!"

The two of them headed back to Ginny's group of friends. Ginny was quiet along the way, and Hermione knew her insides must be wracked with nervousness. She herself felt worried. Now that she'd invited Ginny to her dorm, she was having second thoughts. Draco would be there. What if Draco said something that would hint at their...relationship? If that was even what it was...

Hopefully Ginny wouldn't notice. Hopefully Draco wouldn't say something. And hopefully Hermione wouldn't allow a mistake like this to happen again.

Tonight was going to be interesting.

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**A/N:** please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

_**~Veralena**_


	21. Chapter 20

A/N: hi everyone! thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews. it really keeps me inspired to keep writing. this story is going to get a bit more complex. and some characters may not turn out to be who you think they are...could I be hinting at trouble in paradise? OMG!

enjoy!

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Chapter 20**

As promised, Hermione walked over to Ginny at the Gryffindor table after dinner. Ginny still didn't want to sit with Harry, Ron and Hermione yet, as she hadn't made up with Harry. Getting up, the two of them walked up the many flights of stairs up to Hermione's Common Room.

"So," started Ginny, as they reached the portrait of the woman in the forest clearing, "this is where the famous Head Boy and Head Girl reside..."

Hermione muttered the password, her insides racked with nervousness, and pushed on the portrait. "Yep..."

They stepped into the large room, and Hermione tried regulating her breathing. _In and out, in and out. Come on, Hermione, nothing bad will happen...Nothing at all..._

Ginny drew a breath. "Wow...are you guys living in luxury! This place is amazing!"

Hermione tried smiling.

"Oh...the fireplace," said Ginny, walking around the room slowly. "And all these books!" she moved over by Hermione's door, and then Draco's. "And I'm guessing this is where the evil little playboy lives?" whispered Ginny playfully, with her back to the door. Just then, Draco's door opened, and the man himself stood towering over Ginny's head.

"Evil little playboy?" he said silkily, and Ginny jumped, turning around with a hand on her chest as she stared at him with disc-like eyes. "Come on, Weaslette, I've heard better than that."

He smirked at her, and Ginny backed away from him.

"Would the amazing, bouncing ferret suit you better?" she asked sweetly, though her words dripped of acid.

He frowned, then returned to his smirk again. "Whatever, Weaslette, I've already had enough of you. _I'm_ going out. See you later," he said to the both of them. As he walked out, he trailed his fingers across Hermione's waist, making her practically swoon. Looking over at Ginny, she was relieved to see that she had not noticed anything, but also saw that Ginny was smirking as well, her eyes trailed on the portrait door Draco had just gone out of. The look was gone in a split-second, as Ginny turned around to face Hermione and said brightly: "Let's get dressed, shall we!"

The two of them spent the next half hour oohing and aahing over Hermione's newest outfits that she had never gotten the chance to wear in school, and then picking out clothes.

"Honestly, Ginny," said Hermione tiredly, "does it really matter what we wear? It's a Gryffindor party, for Merlin's sake! We see them everyday!"

Ginny turned away from the mirror, where she was trying to charm away a pimple. "All the more reason to dress up! Listen, Hermione. It may not matter to you, but today is the day I make up with Harry again. Fingers crossed."

"Don't worry, Gin," said Hermione, "he goes ga-ga over you."

Ginny smiled. "Okay, so then what did you decide?"

Hermione turned back to her bed, where she had lain out some clothes. "Black boots, leather skirt, green vest?" _Draco likes green..._

Ginny shook her head. "Better be the blue."

Hermione threw the clothes on and joined Ginny in the bathroom, where Ginny had already worn her slinky grey dress. "Face good, hair good, okay let's go," said Hermione.

"What?" exclaimed Ginny. "No makeup?"

"There's no need." _Especially with no Draco there..._

"But no one will recognize you!"

"Gee, thanks, Gin."

Ginny laughed. "I didn't mean it like that. But you really like your face au naturel?"

"Yeah..." _Come to think of it, that's how Draco likes it._

"And your hair?" asked Ginny, smacking on some lip gloss.

"What about it?"

"You've had it straight since September."

"Well," replied Hermione, "I've begun to like it curly again." _Or at least, Draco has..._

"Ok, well, I'm done, so let's go."

The two of them put on their shoes and were out the door.

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"GOOOO GRYFFINDOOOOOR!!!"

Repeat yells of the same words over and over again reached Hermione's ears. She'd forgotten what it felt like to be at one of these House parties.

The Gryffindor Common Room had been decorated like a Quidditch Pitch. There were massive golden hoops in all four corners of the room, with streamers hanging down from them. The carpet had been magicked grass green, touched up with the white lines that were usually on a pitch. All the portraits seemed to be having a party of their own, slurping down goblets of wine. Everyone was cheering the Quidditch team, who were held up on people's shoulders, balancing happily up in the air with butterbeer bottles in their hands. Hermione watched in amazement as Harry and Ron bounced along people's backs, laughing heartily at everything and everyone.

"Harry! Ron!" yelled Hermione, jumping up to wave at them in the midst of the crowd. Harry heard her voice and smiled brightly at her, reaching over the sea of people to poke Ron in the ribs and point at her.

"Hey Hermione!" called out Harry.

Ron took a swig from his bottle and grinned down at Hermione. "How's it –woah!"

Ron got misbalanced off someone's shoulder and had to hold on to the people below him to stay afloat. "I'm all right! I'm all right!" he shouted.

Ginny had made rounds of the Common Room, and her eyes were now on Harry, who was being paraded around on people's shoulders. Hermione wondered how Ginny would do this. She noticed Ron attempting to bat away people's hands.

"Stop it! Gerroff!" he yelled as someone pinched Ron's stomach. He struggled so much that he tumbled off onto the floor, and people drunkenly laughed as they helped him up. Harry got down from the crowd of Gryffindors and squeezed through to Hermione just as Ron got there as well.

"Pretty crazy party, eh?" said Harry.

Ron groaned. "Yeah, it's all right when people aren't trying to pinch and poke every bloody part of you!"

Ron turned around, still grumbling but decidedly much happier with people cheering his name. Hermione nudged Harry with her elbow.

"Did you see...?" she trailed off, slanting her eyes towards Ginny. Harry followed her gaze and looked thoroughly depressed as he saw Ginny laughing to something Seamus had said.

"She still hates me," he said, his shoulders slumping.

"Hm...I wouldn't count on it," she replied, giving him a wink. He stared after her confusedly as she walked away, grabbed a butterbeer, and joined in the fun. She suddenly remembered that exactly this time 'last year', there had been a Gryffindor Quidditch party just like this. Only, it had been slightly different...

"_We won! We woooooon!"_

_Hermione smiled, if only briefly, at Harry and Ron cheering with everyone else. She had had stomach pains all day, and her headache was starting to get worse with all the noise and shouting. Harry had made her promise she'd show up. Well, she had. And now it was time to go._

_Of course, no one noticed when she left. No one ever did. She was just short, snobby, bushy-haired Hermione; the bossy one no one listened to, and that definitely didn't know how to party._

_Hermione climbed up the numerous staircases up to her dorm. She would read, she supposed, as there was nothing else really that she wanted to do. She could catch up on that Potions homework..._

"_What are you doing here, mudblood?" asked Draco as soon as she walked in the portrait door._

_Instantly her depressed heart hardened. Ugh...it was so frustrating. With his perfect face and body, he was a vision. He was lounging on the sofa in a way that reminded her of Renaissance paintings. And yet he was the most annoying creature in the universe. _

"_I could ask you the same thing, ferret. And what's it to you, anyway?" replied Hermione, raising her chin and walking vehemently to her door._

_He raised his head from the sofa to look at her. "I was trying to catch up on some sleep, before you interrupted me, you bossy little tart!"_

"_I am not a tart!"_

"_You will be someday," he said in a mock foreboding voice._

"_Shut up, you scrotty prick! Go die in hell," she yelled, marching into her room and slamming the door behind her._

_And ending the argument in the same manner as every day. _

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"Harry, don't look now, but Ginny's coming towards you," said Hermione, deftly grabbing her butterbeer bottle off the table and walking a short distance away.

"No! No, don't leave!" hissed Harry, his eyes rounded in alarm, but it was too late. Ginny was standing in front of him with her hands on her hips.

Even though she was not in front of them, Hermione could hear their words as clear as a bell. Facing the other direction, she pretended not to listen.

"So," started Ginny. "I hear you're going out with Hermione?"

Harry sounded surprised. "What? No! I...I'm not -,"

Ginny clicked her tongue. "I know."

Harry sounded puzzled. "You...?"

She sighed. "What was the point of making me jealous?"

There was silence.

"This," said Harry, sighing deeply. "You. Talking to me again."

Another brief silence.

"Well, I'm talking to you again," said Ginny. "Now what do you have to say to me?"

Just then, a loud shushing sound was heard. The cheering stopped, and everyone turned to see Parvati and Lavendar with their index fingers to their mouths, silencing the crowd and pointing to Harry and Ginny. As everyone stared at them, they blushed, and Harry began walking away. Ginny grabbed his arm roughly.

"Listen, Boy-Who-Lived-And-Left-The-People-Who-Cared-For-Him, you either tell me what's going on in that messed up brain of yours or you lose me forever."

Hermione turned to see Ron looking startled that this was even happening. Harry seemed shocked at Ginny's words.

"Here?" he asked, his eyebrows receding into his jet black fringe. "Now?"

Ginny nodded slowly.

Harry tentatively looked around at everyone. Hermione saw his eyes focus on Ron for a short moment, then on Dean, then on her own. She smiled at him, urging him to go on. He breathed in, seeming to gain strength.

"Fine," he said, staring right into Ginny's eyes. "You want to hear it? All right. I'm in love with you, Ginny Weasley. And that's that."

The room gasped collectively; some girls awww-ed, the loudest being Parvati and Lavendar. Ginny seemed surprised even though Hermione had already told her how Harry felt. She probably couldn't believe he'd just said it out loud.

"You..." she muttered.

Harry looked around at everyone one more time. "Why does this always happen during a Gryffindor party?" Some people in the room laughed. "Ah, who cares?"

And then he grabbed Ginny's waist and kissed her.

Everyone cheered and clapped. This being the second time around that Harry and Ginny had kissed publicly in the Gryffindor Common Room, some of them giggled. People were yelling out encouragement: "The Captain got his girl!" "Give her a good snog, Potter!"

When Harry and Ginny broke apart, they both blushed, looking sheepishly at everyone. Hermione ran over and threw her arms around both of them.

"Oh Merlin! I'm so happy you guys finally made up!" she exclaimed. They all laughed, Harry patting Hermione's cheek, all smiles.

"Thanks so much, Hermione," said Ginny. Her gaze was so sincere, it warmed Hermione's heart.

"I did so much damage...it was my responsibility to bring you guys back together," she said.

Ron walked over to them. He looked slightly bemused as he clapped Harry on the back. Harry, Ginny and Hermione stared at him expectantly. His lips seemed to be holding in a grin.

"No comment," said Ron, making them all laugh.

Suddenly, everyone started gasping as a big, black mass came tumbling out of the ceiling and zoomed straight for Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione.

"INCOMING!" someone yelled.

And Neville crashed into them, sending them all down to the floor. Everyone in the room was laughing now, crowding around the five of them.

"Sorry!" panted Neville. "Levitating...spell...gone...wrong!"

All the Gryffindors laughed. It seemed like the festivities would go on all night long.

But up high in the castle sat a brooding young Slytherin who was missing a certain Gryffindor.

And he definitely wasn't having any fun.

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**A/N:** please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

**_~Veralena_**


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N:** again, very sorry for the delay. this is a busy time of the year...consider this an early christmas present to all my readers and reviewers! enjoy!

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Chapter 21**

It was a beautiful morning. Quiet, peaceful, with sunlight pouring through the windows, birds chirping outside, swirls of dust highlighted from the rays of the sun. Hermione stretched her arms above her head and lay back on her pillow for a while, simply staring outside. The sheer tranquility of it was calming. She smiled, yawned, remembered who was in the room next to her, and got up from bed while clutching her sheets to her.

She was wearing shorts and a tank top, because even in the dead of winter Hogwarts was always toasty warm. Dragging the sheets behind her, she opened Draco's door and walked into his room.

The sunlight was pouring in here as well. Draco was a motionless lump on the right side of his bed, sleeping peacefully on his back with an arm behind his head. His silky green sheets were blinding, but looked warm and comfortable. Hermione crept onto his bed and cuddled into his side. His eyelids fluttered, but he didn't quite awake just yet, so Hermione watched the sun shine on his pale skin, the few blond hairs on his chest rising as he breathed slowly. Lifting up her finger, she traced patterns on his stomach, on his chest, around his nipples, onto his heart.

Draco made a light sound from the back of his throat. He seemed to be awake, but refused to open his eyes. Smirking, Hermione trailed her fingers lower and lower, beneath the sheets. Very slowly, she traced a finger down his length.

He groaned, instantly hardening, and suddenly turned on his side to crush Hermione underneath him. His body almost completely covering hers, Hermione tried to push him off.

"Draco..." she gasped, "can't...breathe..."

He simply chuckled.

"Not...funny..." wheezed Hermione.

"Well what do you expect?" came his muffled voice from above her head. "Giving me a hard-on first thing in the morning."

Hermione smiled despite her position. With every ounce of strength, she managed to push him off. He landed on his back, sighing comfortably.

"Isn't that how you always wake up?" asked Hermione innocently.

Draco opened one eye. "Come here, you little minx," he said, pulling her back to him.

She settled her head onto his chest, returning to tracing patterns on his chest.

"How was last night?" he asked, and the deep grumble from his voice reverberated to Hermione's ear.

"Good. Everything's back to normal."

"Why didn't you come back here?" he asked reproachfully.

Hermione looked up at him, surprised. "You were fast asleep! I didn't want to wake you!"

"Doesn't matter," he replied, blowing a gust of air upwards to remove the piece of hair lying on his eyes. "You could have woken me. I wouldn't have minded."

"Well..." she said, kissing the skin around his nipples, "I didn't know that."

They lay there in peace for a while, letting the sun warm them. Hermione had a thought.

"Do you always sleep naked?" she asked.

He chuckled again. "Only when you're around."

She lifted her head to look up at him. He was smirking devilishly at her. "And why is that?" she asked.

He suddenly got up, twisting around to pin Hermione underneath him. "Convenience," he replied simply, before crashing his lips onto hers. She moaned as his tongue plunged into her mouth, and she clutched his back as he kissed her deeply. Reaching between them, Draco quickly took off her shirt, pausing for a short moment to admire her plump breasts, then yanked off her shorts to find her warm pussy already wet.

"Mmm," moaned Hermione, as Draco leaned down to suckle her left nipple, pulling at it with his lips and his teeth. Meanwhile, his fingers trailed down to her clit, rubbing it with his thumb, his hand sopping with her juices as she purred like a cat.

Hermione dug her hands into his hair as he inserted a finger into her slit and pushed in, making her back arch. She yanked him up by his hair, surprising him. Reaching down, she massaged his member for a moment before placing it at her opening. Draco plunged into her moist depths, feeling the wet bliss surrounding his throbbing cock. He couldn't stand to go slow, so he pumped into her faster and faster, holding her legs up with his hands.

Hermione grabbed at her breasts, pulling her nipples and moaning as Draco stared into her eyes, his cock pummelling into her over and over again. She felt so full, and it felt wonderful as he hit her spot. Throwing her head back, she pressed her knees together, and this new position allowed Draco to go deeper inside her. He groaned, licking her smooth legs as he felt her swollen lips pull on his pulsing cock.

He kept pounding into her until he could take it no more, and he quickly thrust in once, twice, and then exploded into her. Practically screaming from the sheer pleasure of it, Hermione came as she felt his warm cum pool into her, her own juices spraying out of her and onto the bed. Draco groaned, exhausted, and watched greedily as Hermione reached down to her pussy and trailed their mixed juices all over her body. Spreading it all over her breasts, she motioned at Draco with one finger to come to her. His eyes widened with delight, and he immediately started sucking her breasts, licking her stomach, wetting her nipples. Hermione moaned in satisfaction as Draco collapsed on top of her chest, their sweat mingling as they lay in the morning sunshine.

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Hermione decided it was time to get out of the Common Room. She'd been holed up there with Draco almost all weekend, having sex, sitting by the fireplace, reading books, and having more sex. Draco had sneaked down at night and asked the house elves to give him a massive basket of food (Hermione had at first opposed, but gave in when she got exceptionally hungry). It was nearly seven o'clock on Sunday when they both decided it was time to go back out.

Hermione dressed in a warm knit sweater and kissed Draco goodbye for the moment. He was going to go visit Blaise, while she was going to the Gryffindor Common Room. She trailed down the stairs and said the password, climbing in the portrait hole.

"Who's winning?" she asked as means of greeting, approaching Harry and Ron who were playing wizard's chess by the fire. The Common Room was quite full, as people were mostly enjoying the last few hours before classes began tomorrow. Neville was in the corner teaching his toad Trevor some tricks, and Dean and Seamus were sprawled in a corner with Lavendar and Parvati, laughing and flirting.

"Ron, of course," conceded Harry. Ron didn't look up from the board, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Bishop to C-seven...and..." he muttered as the pieces moved on the board, "...checkmate. Yes!"

Harry rolled his eyes and looked at Hermione. "He always wins. It's no fun."

Ron grinned. "What's up Hermione? Where have you been all weekend?"

"Oh...just studying, you know," she said, lightly blushing as she thought of all the amazingly dirty things she had done with Draco, "I've a test in Arithmancy tomorrow."

"Useless subject," said Ron, sighing as he put his arms behind his head. "What do you need it for, anyway?"

"Oh, Ron..." she muttered. "How's Ginny?" she asked Harry.

"She's fine. She's studying as well, upstairs in her room because she said I would distract her," he said, smiling lopsidedly.

Hermione grinned. "You probably would."

"You hear about the Christmas Ball?" asked Harry.

Hermione clasped her hands. "Oh! I loved the Christmas Ball last year!"

She clearly remembered that 'last year' the Christmas Ball had been the one event she had thoroughly enjoyed. She had gone with Ron, which was all right because she was only interested in seeing Draco all nicely dressed up. She spent a lot of time trying to looking fabulous, and with the lights dimmed, no one had realized it was nerdy Hermione Granger dancing along with them. Draco had looked particularly exceptional that night. It had been a wonderful evening, even if he had scoffed at her on the way back to the Common Room.

But she realized instantly that she had made a mistake, simply from the confused looks Harry and Ron were giving her now.

"There was no Christmas Ball last year, Hermione..." said Ron slowly. "There was just that stupid Slug Club Christmas party I wasn't invited to," he ended bitterly.

Hermione started blushing from embarrassment and annoyance at herself for her stupid mistake. "Oh, right...right," she said lightly. "I meant the party...the Christmas Party."

Harry continued looking at her suspiciously, but then let it pass. "Any ideas who you're going with?"

Hermione's first thought was Draco, but now that she thought about it, it wouldn't be such a good idea, even though it pained her to think so. Or maybe...people would just have to accept it as it was?

"I don't know...let's see who asks," she said.

She expected Ron to perk up at this point, but he simply grinned. "I'm going with Bridgette Fay."

Hermione was confused. "Who?"

Harry looked at her. "You know, the little sixth year that no one knows."

"Shut it, Harry," said Ron.

Hermione laughed, and just then Ron pointed at the staircases leading down from the Girl's Dormitories.

"There she is!" he said excitedly.

And sure enough, there was Bridgette, walking down slowly with her books tightly clutched in her arms. Hermione recognized her from Romilda's party now. She noticed that she looked almost identical to herself 'last year'. She was a mini-nerdy Hermione. She wondered absently whether Ron had a type, but abolished the thought when she remembered Ron and Lavender. Then again, it had only been to make Hermione jealous.

"She's cute," said Hermione, smiling indulgently at Ron. He beckoned Bridgette over.

"Hi!" Bridgette said, clearly ecstatic to actually meet Hermione, a Hogwarts prefect. "Hey Harry!" she added, giving him a slight wave. Harry nodded at her from his chair, where he leaned lazily.

"It's nice to meet you," said Hermione politely. Bridgette had a slight gap between her two front teeth, but Hermione supposed some people might find that sexy...or cute. In fact, looking at Bridgette, Hermione could only place her as 'cute'. She had curly brown hair, just like Hermione, big brown eyes and pale skin. She looked a little like a porcelain doll.

Ron took one of Bridgette's hands and smiled at her happily. Bridgette beamed back at him, clearly over the moon to be dating a seventh-year. He stood up.

"Well," said Ron, "we'll see you later." Harry and Hermione nodded, and watched Ron and Bridgette's retreating backs.

Hermione sat down opposite Harry.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak. "She's - ,"

"-cute. I know," finished Harry, laughing. "It's what everyone says."

"Ah well," she replied. "If Ron's happy, then I'm happy."

"You _do_ look happy. What's up?"

She looked at Harry, and he gazed back at her inquisitively. He cared for her, just like a best friend should.

"I don't know..." she said, grinning. "Just...a nice time of the year, I suppose." _Or that Draco and I spent all weekend having sex._

He didn't inquire further. "Hermione...can you fix my Potions essay?"

She laughed and told him to bring it over. They spent the next few hours correcting Harry's essay, and talking about school, professors, and the upcoming holidays. It was getting late, and slowly the Common Room became empty. The fire was still crackling, casting shadows all around the warm room, and Harry and Hermione moved to the couch. It seemed like they had a lot to talk about, covering the past three days.

"Harry," started Hermione hesitantly, "don't you ever think about Voldemort?"

Harry's eyes turned glacial as he glared into the fireplace. Hermione watched the reflection of the flames on his glassy jade eyes, waiting for his response.

"Of course I do, Hermione," he said heavily. "How could I forget everything? I think about it constantly. I know he's out there, and I know he's been quiet so far. I don't know what he's doing, who he's murdering. I read the Daily Prophet every morning, but there's been no mention of him, not even a sighting. The Death Eaters have gone underground too. All I can do is wait until his next attack."

"Oh, Harry," whispered Hermione, patting his arm gently. She'd been reading the Daily Prophet too, although not recently, and she hadn't read anything about Voldemort either.

"I don't like to think about it, Hermione – no, don't apologize!" he said as she opened her mouth to do just that. "It's okay," he continued. "You're one of my best friends, you have the right to ask. I'm just biding my time while he bides his, and when he decides to make the first move, so will I." His voice was full of hate, and Hermione felt sadness for him. Harry was probably worried sick, but he never told anyone. She leaned over and kissed Harry on the cheek, and he smiled weakly.

Suddenly there was a slight thumping noise from near the staircases. They both looked in the direction.

"What was that?" whispered Hermione.

"Don't know..." answered Harry, craning his neck and squinting his eyes to try to make out someone in the darkness. "No one, probably," he said after a moment, and they both faced the fire again.

At one in the morning, Hermione bid Harry good night, and made her way back up to her own Common Room. She could tell Draco was back already because his shirt was lying on the couch. As were his pants. In fact, a trail of the rest of his clothes led to his door. She picked them all up and walked into his room, shaking her head, and then gasped in shock.

Draco was lying on the bed, reading a book, stark naked. Hermione absorbed the panorama of his thick, muscly legs, his strong thighs, his rock hard abs, his wide chest and broad shoulders, resting her eyes on his long member, hard and begging to fill her depths. He had an arm behind his head, looking absolutely relaxed, but with a naughty grin on his face.

"Hello, gorgeous," he said, winking at her.

Hermione practically swooned.

What a welcome.

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**A/N:** please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update.

**~Veralena**


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N**: my very, very, very sincere apologies for the delay. on a happier note, i'm done writing the next two chapters, which means less time between updates. enjoy!

p.s. this chapter is ALL Draco/Hermione goodness.

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**Chapter 22**

Snow was piling up on the grounds. Every morning was pearly gray and thick with snowflakes, and the windows were covered completely, making rooms appear darker than usual. Dumbledore had therefore set spells to brighten the lamps of the castle.

Despite the dismal conditions, the students were excited. Christmas was nearing, and you could almost smell it in the air. Only two weeks were left until classes finished. People were most excited about the Christmas Ball, which had been undergoing preparations for a while. Students were excited to dress up, as they had during the Yule Ball, and then look forward to two weeks of relaxation with their families back home.

Hermione couldn't have been happier. She was doing excellent in her classes, she was with Draco, all her friendships were back to normal, and her prefect duties were not annoying anymore now that she had Draco along with her. Everything was perfect.

Well...for now.

After a particularly tough Arithmancy class, Hermione trudged up the stairs to her Common Room, tired but excited to see Draco. They'd both been too busy all week to spend a lot of time together, and she wanted to finish up her homework early so she could shut them both up in his bedroom. Or hers. Or the couch. Or the rug in front of the fireplace. Or by the bookshelves. Or anywhere quiet and vacant, for that matter.

Hermione could feel the familiar heaviness in her lower regions as she thought of Draco, naked, dripping with sweat and hunger in his eyes. She was smirking as she pushed open the portrait.

The Common Room was empty, but Draco's door was shut, which meant he was back. She could hear the shower, so she decided to surprise him. Quickly lowering her bag near her bed, she stripped off her clothes and wrapped herself up in a towel, letting her hair loose and running her hands through it. Quietly, she tiptoed into his bedroom.

His clothes were on his bed, thrown haphazardly across the sheets. Hermione was just going to walk into his bathroom when she spotted something red.

She felt a lurch in her stomach.

Hermione walked up to his bed again, and picked up his white shirt, bunched together near his pillow. Her hands trembling, she slowly picked it up, shaking the shirt so it would open up.

This wasn't right.

There was a lipstick stain, bright and ruby red, right on the edge of the shirt's collar. The lips that had given it had been open, as if in ecstasy. As if...as if Draco had been administering that ecstasy.

The world began to feel hazy. Hermione tried to steady herself. She told herself to calm down. It _was_ Draco after all. Girls were after him all the time. Maybe Pansy had tried flirting with him. Or maybe...

She didn't know what to think. Grabbing the shirt in one hand, she walked to the bathroom door, opened it and walked up to the shower.

"What the -," started Draco, looking shocked, and then relaxed. "Oh, it's you."

Hermione's lips were in a hard line. She said nothing.

"Damn, you look hot, Granger," he said, ripping open the shower curtain and exposing himself completely to her view. She couldn't help but soak in his long, hard length, swelling at the sight of her. Water dripped down his abs and his face, matting his blond hair and making it appear darker. Her lowest bundle of nerves clenched seeing the heavenly sight before her, and yet her mind wasn't letting her give away so easily.

"What the hell is this?" she whispered, lifting the shirt. Draco looked confused for a moment, and he looked like he was about to say something when he noticed the lipstick stain. His eyes widened, and his pale face flushed with colour.

"I don't know," he replied bluntly.

"Oh don't be stupid, Malfoy. Why is there a bright red lipstick stain on your fucking shirt?" she spat.

Draco looked extremely uneasy, and after a moment's thought, tried to laugh it off. "Hahaha, nice try, Granger. Is this a scenario of yours? Angry sex again?" He grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, but she beat her fists against his chest. She was _not_ in the mood anymore. Even if the feel of his hardness against her stomach made her shiver. Damn.

"Stop it," she said firmly, pulling away from him. "Answer the question."

He looked completely uncertain as to why they were discussing this. She tightened the towel around her body and gave him a filthy look, throwing the shirt at him.

"Granger...I honestly have no idea where this came from," he said, and she glared at him from a moment, trying to see if he was being sincere.

"Oh really? Been having a little tryst with some other girl, Draco?" sniffed Hermione.

"No! Good Merlin, no, Hermione. I swear it!" raising his arms as if in surrender. She gave him a long, narrow look, then decided he was telling the truth.

"Fine," she sighed, grabbing the now-wet shirt from him and throwing it in the corner of the bathroom.

Slowly, experimentally, Draco reached over to her and gripped her arm, pulling her to him. Hesitant at first, she eventually complied, standing flush against his hard body. The water was still cascading down against Draco's back, and she lifted her face to his. Feeling suddenly tired, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Long day?" asked Draco, kneading her back with his strong hands. She sighed in relaxation, closing her eyes into Draco's neck. It was the most comfortable feeling, to have his body against hers while water rained down on them.

"Mhm," she said, playing with a few strands of hair at the nape of his neck. She nudged her forehead softly against his cheek, feeling stubble.

"Don't shave," she said.

He sounded surprised. "Excuse me?"

"I like it better when you're all scraggly."

He laughed, tightening his arms around her. She could feel the rumbling coming from his chest. "Only for you," he said, a smile in his voice.

Hermione budged her head to look up into his face. Who was this new creature, all nice and warm? When Draco had said he'd changed, he'd meant it. Gone was the selfish, arrogant brat she'd known before. Who would have thought someone as evil as Malfoy could be so caring and kind?

"Question," she said.

"Go ahead."

"Why are you so nice to me?"

He looked down at her, slightly surprised. Apparently lost in thought, he buried his hands in her wet hair. She remained quiet, letting him think it through.

"I don't know," he started slowly. "Even _I'm_ amazed that I could be so...so..."

"Kind?" offered Hermione.

Draco scowled as if the adjective disgusted him. "I'm not _kind_, Hermione."

"But you _are_. At least, to me. To everyone else, you're a prick."

He smirked, as if that thought made him happy. "Like I've said before, I've never met anyone that could be sexy and still curse me to my face."

"At the same time?" giggled Hermione.

"Yeah," he said, smirking back at her. "You're like two different people. Every time I see you, I feel like fucking you. But then you'll yell at me about why I stole your knickers and call me ten different names."

Hermione smiled. "But you love it."

"Hell yes," he said, looking up as he did so. "I hate easy scores."

She looked saddened for a moment. "Is that what I am to you? A score?"

His silver eyes glazed down at her chocolate brown ones. "No, Hermione. Do you think I'd be here right now, standing with you in the shower, dissecting our lives, if I didn't feel something serious for you?"

A small smile crept up her lips. "We're not dissecting our lives..." she scoffed.

"Yes we are. Merlin, I feel like Pansy."

Hermione laughed out loud, then placed a kiss on his hard chest. "I like you too, Draco. A lot."

He shivered. "It's so weird for me, to be saying all this. But it's true, and you know it," he said simply. They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, the water pouring around them, the only sound being the droplets hitting the tiled floor. Then he leaned down and kissed her.

She poured out her feelings into that kiss. The lipstick-stained shirt was in the back of her mind, still nagging, but she felt so safe and at home with Draco. His lips were fervent and soft, his tongue gliding along hers until she opened her mouth. She moaned into the kiss, letting him explore her mouth with his eager tongue. He pulled away from her for a moment.

"I feel like there's something between us," he said, looking down. With one quick movement, Hermione's towel was off and their bodies were mashed together again. The feel of her naked body against Draco's was like bliss. Her soft curves pressed onto his hard flesh, fitting like a puzzle. His hands cupped her derrière, feeling the wet skin. He was still kissing her, roughly now, as she trailed a hand down his chest, his stomach, the thin trail of blond hair leading downward, to his hard member.

He groaned deeply as her hand clutched it, kneading the head, playing with his balls. His fingers were lost inside of her, wet with her juices. She tried keeping her head but it was terribly hard when she was feeling her climax building. She purred lightly, feeling lightheaded, still massaging his length.

Feeling like he couldn't take it anymore, he lifted her quickly by her behind and crushed her against the tiled wall. It felt cold to Hermione's skin, but she barely noticed as Draco's lips latched onto her nipples. Her mouth opened and her head fell back, grasping Draco's neck tightly, her legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed her breasts over and over again, licking her hard nipples in slow circles. Finally, he reached down between them and placed his throbbing member at her slick opening.

Looking down into his eyes, she urged him with her gaze. He was inside her in a second, feeling the wonderful sensation of her tight walls around him. Water fell all over them and around them, heightening the feeling as droplets fell on Hermione's nipples. She moaned loudly as she felt Draco thrust into her deeply, hitting her spot. His arms were supporting her, his body holding her to the wall.

Though his legs were dying out, he couldn't stop pounding into her. The feeling was too strong. Over and over again, faster and faster, deeper and deeper. Hermione could feel sweat pouring from her brow and being washed away by the cascading water. Draco watched hungrily as she leaned her head back against the wall, enjoying the view of her breasts bouncing with their actions. The sound of their breathing was getting louder and louder, until it overpowered the sound of the water. It was just them, Draco and Hermione, clasped together in the heat of the moment.

When it came, it came like a bang. He thrust into her one last time, letting himself explode in her as she shuddered with her own climax. Her body jerked in his arms, her back arched unnaturally, and his eyes closed as he shuddered and groaned deeply. The sensation continued for a long moment, until, very slowly, it faded away.

Still breathing heavily, he let her down, and she stood for a moment, looking like she might fall at any moment. Even though his lower body felt extremely strained, he reached over and turned off the shower. Then he picked her up in his arms and carried her out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. Pushing aside the sheets, he laid her down, and, still soaking wet, he climbed up beside her, pulling the sheets over them.

Wordlessly, she wrapped her wet arms around him. He didn't seem to care that his sheets were getting damp.

"The Ball..." said Hermione after a moment. "The Christmas Ball." He was silent, and she thought he was asleep, but he grunted in assent. "Are you going?" she asked.

"Dunno," he said heavily.

"I was kind of hoping..." she started, then faltered. "Never mind."

"You want me to take you," he said.

Hermione blushed into his chest. "Um...yes."

He seemed to be about to agree to it, when he stopped himself. Through his tired mind, he thought everything through.

"Blaise..." he murmured. "Pansy... Your friends. Potter. Weasley. The whole school..."

He seemed to be naming all the people who would be offended by their relationship.

"I realize that," she said.

"I know I said before that I didn't give a damn about what people thought," he muttered, "but face it, it _does_ matter."

"I know," replied Hermione in a tiny voice.

His grasp on her tightened. "Hey...don't think I don't want to go with you. I do. Really, I do. It's just...the consequences of it would be terrible."

"Goodness, I feel like we're Romeo and Juliet."

"You'd kill yourself for me?"

She looked up in awe. "You've read Romeo and Juliet? But you're not a muggle!"

He laughed. "I know. But even a wizard's got to read Shakespeare."

She rested her head on his chest again. "Well, no, I wouldn't kill myself for you."

"Thanks," he said, with a smirk in his voice.

"As if _you _would."

"Sure. If you were taken away by the Dark Lord..."

Hermione shivered. "Don't talk about that. Let's just...forget about it."

He kissed the top of her head. "Agreed." Then they both closed their eyes, and drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

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**A/N**: please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

_**~Veralena**_


	24. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Classes were still in full swing, as teachers were trying to fit in as much work as they could into the short period of time before festivities for the holidays began. Everyone was excited for the Christmas Ball.

"Now, class! Class!" shouted McGonagall, waving her wand to attempt to silence them all. Unfortunately, only Dumbledore was capable of such a feat, and Seamus remained sniggering at the back of the class at something Dean had just said.

"Mr. Thomas and Mr. Finnigan! If you don't remain quiet I will have you both transformed into a pair of grumbling gorillas!" exclaimed McGonagall, without a hint of a smile. The grins on the two boys' faces faded, and they turned to face the front.

Harry and Ron crumpled the pieces of paper in front of them. They had been making stupid notes about random things, such as casting a Hobble-Knee spell on Snape, or spreading a rumor about 'Malfoy and his mummy'. They had shared the notes with Hermione, who had grimaced at the one about Snape and scoffed at the one about Malfoy, feeling an unnecessary tremor through her body at the mere mention of him. She was so nervous anytime someone mentioned him; she felt like they all knew, and they were all humoring her. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but it was what she felt and she couldn't stop it. Hermione had passed the notes back, chiding Ron and Harry to pay attention in class.

"As you all well know," started McGonagall, "next week is the Christmas Ball. As with the Yule Ball a few years ago, I expect Gryffindor House to comport itself with dignity, seriousness, and above all, _good behavior_."

Seamus looked over at Lavendar and gave her a lascivious wink.

"I will not tolerate any poor conduct or inappropriate activities," said McGonagall, color reaching her face uncomfortably as she said so. "You are not children, but you have not graduated either. Seventh-years are model students for the whole school. And I expect the best from Gryffindor house."

Most of the students were still giggling at her previous words, but they nodded their heads nevertheless. McGonagall, appearing to be satisfied and eager to change the subject, turned back to the blackboard and pointed at it with her wand, placing their homework upon it. The students groaned at the amount she had assigned, and sluggishly copied it down.

"Do you realize we have to finish all this, plus our Potions paper, practice that Jelly Belly charm, which is completely useless by the way, and also research ways of killing Kappas for Defense Against the Dark Arts?" moaned Ron.

Harry nodded heavily. He looked like he hadn't gotten much sleep.

"Are you okay?" asked Hermione from behind him. He turned around to look at her and smiled tiredly.

"It's Ginny...we were up all night," he said. But somehow it didn't sound like they'd had a good time.

"And, uh...what happened?" asked Hermione, in the most non-inquisitive manner possible.

"She was fine for a while...but...I don't know. Something's definitely up."

Ron overheard the conversation and turned to face them. "What did my sister do now?"

Harry smiled. "Nothing. It's probably just nothing."

And speak of the devil, Ginny showed up at lunch and came and sat with the three of them, looking positively happy. She gave Harry a big kiss on the lips (Ron squirmed), and clasped Harry's hands tightly as she asked about their day.

"I'm so excited for the Christmas Ball! Hermione, have you thought about what you're going to wear?" asked Ginny brightly.

"No...not at all. What about you?"

"Oh, yes," replied Ginny. "I ordered a very pretty dress, it's all purple and velvety."

Harry looked pleased at this happy change of scene. "What's up, Gin? Last night you were so..."

"I know, Harry. I'm so sorry. I was having a bad day."

"You should have told me," murmured Harry, pushing back a piece of hair from Ginny's face tenderly. Hermione looked away, as did Ron. She felt like she was intruding on a private moment.

"I know..." Hermione heard Ginny say, and then the unmistakable sounds of kissing.

"Oy, find a room!" exclaimed Ron.

Harry and Ginny broke apart, grinning widely. Ron rolled his eyes and plunged into his food as it magically appeared on the table.

After lunch, Hermione made her long way to Herbology, out in the grounds. As she walked by, she couldn't help but notice all the girls that wore lipstick. Sure, most girls stuck to lip gloss, or nothing at all, but something in her made her check every single girl. There was a pretty blond one she didn't know, her lips bright red and her eyes bare, looking like, as Ron called it, a "scarlett woman". Hermione laughed at the thought, then narrowed her eyes when she saw another girl with bright red lipstick. This one was a brunette, not pretty, but with an intense look. She had smoky eyes that were smoldering. Then there was another one, with the same crimson lips, but with black, curly hair.

She didn't know what was wrong with her. Maybe she was just noticing this because of Draco's shirt. It had continued nagging at the back of her brain for a while. She was quite sure she was just being paranoid.

As the day went on, it was beginning to annoy her. She couldn't help but notice that Luna, simple, nerdy Luna, had bright red lips. Since when did Luna wear lipstick? It disconcerted her that she was now doubting her own friends. What was wrong with her?

Her suspicions were pushed to the forefront as she stood in line for Potions. Draco was not here yet, as usual, but many Slytherins were, and Ron and Harry were standing just behind her, laughing at something.

"Out of my way, bookfucker," said a snooty voice. Hermione turned to see Pansy, throwing her a look full of disdain. With horror, Hermione realized Pansy was wearing lipstick, bright, ruby red. The very same shade as the stain on Draco's shirt. Pansy's short black hair was cut in a blunt style, and her nose was puckered up, giving her a pig-like appearance.

"What did you say?" said an angry voice, and Hermione realized Ron was grasping her arm tightly and glaring at Pansy. Harry mimicked Ron, adopting the same tone as he said, "Fuck off, Pansy."

"Well, that's what she is," said Pansy, appearing to gain confidence as her Slytherin friends appeared behind her as well. One of the girls was a dark-skinned beauty, with eyebrows plucked so high they looked evil. The other was a pale blond, her lips as thin as parchment.

"What happened, Granger?" continued Pansy. "Scared to admit your book obsession? Because we all know, you know. You probably have a secret arrangement with Madam Pince." And Pansy's cronies laughed humorlessly with her.

"Shut up, Pansy," said Harry with gritted teeth. Hermione's face was burning with humiliation. She'd lost her voice, and her head. She'd been so caught in the revelation of the lipstick stain that nothing was making sense.

"Is that what it is?" asked Pansy, raising an eyebrow, looking positively mean. She was enjoying this. "You're fucking the librarian?"

"PANSY!"

Everyone turned to look. Draco was striding up to them, a terrible look on his face. He looked positively furious and was storming towards a cowering Pansy.

"What, Drakie?" she said, immediately childish. "What did I do?"

Draco looked over at Hermione, warmth in his eyes at seeing her, then glanced around at Harry, Ron, and Pansy's two cronies. The other students, mostly Slytherins, were glaring at Draco in a confused way. Draco reassessed the situation.

"Nothing, Pansy," he said, visibly calming down.

Hermione looked at him askance, but she couldn't do anything about Draco's words. He was being smart about this. She convinced herself to leave it.

"Come on, Drakie...leave the mudblood and her lot..." said Pansy, dragging Draco along. Harry and Ron said nothing, seeing as Draco had done nothing to provoke them, but gritted their teeth as they followed Hermione inside. She was only slightly affronted. After all, what could he have done? Exposed them?

Blaise showed up late to class but Snape excused him, instead scolding Ron about his smoking cauldron. Blaise turned to Draco, who was silently cutting up beet roots.

"So?" asked Blaise.

Draco turned to him, slightly irritated. "What?"

"How's the...uh...Granger situation going?"

"Fine," said Draco. "All fine. Other than the fact that it's so hard to keep a secret, and that if anyone finds out my life will be ruined. It's all fine."

Blaise was silently assessing Draco's tone and his body language. "Man, you know I don't approve. But I'd never dish it out to anyone."

Draco let out a breath. "I know."

"And if you wanna keep fucking her, that's fine with me, 'cause she's hot as hell. I just don't want you becoming one of those heart-sick love puppies."

Draco gave a taut smile. "It's not like that." _Lie, lie, lie._

"Great," continued Blaise. He watched Draco for a moment. "You wanna take her to the Christmas Ball, don't you?"

Draco looked discreetly around, making sure no one was eavesdropping. Then, he curtly nodded.

"But you can't, 'cause then everyone will find out," said Blaise, stating the obvious.

Draco nodded again.

"Well, then, you take her to the Christmas Ball, and if anyone asks, just say Dumbledore's making the Head Boy and Head Girl go together."

There was a moment of silence as Draco processed this, and then he grinned.

"You know Blaise, that just might work."

Blaise grinned back. "And besides, if anyone's really that curious, do you really think they'll have the guts to ask Dumbledore himself?"

"Probably not," said Draco. "Thanks, man."

"Happy to help," said Blaise. "I don't like seeing you this way. It's bloody weird."

They laughed, and Potions continued in a regular routine for the rest of the day. Hermione was hungry, so she didn't talk much during dinner. Instead she let Harry and Ron chatter away about other things, such as Quidditch and, (in Harry's case) Ginny. Looking forward to seeing Draco again, she popped upstairs to their Common Room.

She knew something was wrong the second she walked in. The whole atmosphere of the room was different. She decided to forget about it. Draco wasn't back yet, so she began on her homework.

He came up after half an hour, grinning as he saw her. She stood up and wrapped her arms around him.

"Mmm, I've missed you, and it's only been a few hours," she purred, nuzzling her nose into the collar of his shirt.

"Me too," he rumbled, pulling her lithe body close to his.

But Hermione didn't hear what he said. She looked up at his face, then stuck her nose into the collar of his shirt again.

"Draco..." she began uncertainly. "Why does your shirt smell like ladies' perfume?"

He looked confused. "What?"

Hermione stepped away from him, looking horrified. "It does," she stated. "Sweet, flowery, fucking perfume!"

Draco couldn't believe his ears. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, lifting the collar upto his nose to smell it.

"Holy shit, that smells nice!" he said, smirking at her.

Hermione folded her arms. "This isn't funny, Draco."

And to his horror, tears started to well in her eyes.

"Hermione...please don't..." he mumbled, coming towards her to gather in his arms. But she stepped away. She started walking to her bedroom, but he ran in front of her and blocked the way.

"Get out of my way, Draco! I don't want to talk to you," she blubbered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.

He didn't budge.

So she promptly ran off in the opposite direction to his bedroom, shutting the door behind her with a bang.

"Come on, Hermione, I didn't know about it, I swear!" he yelled, but his room was silent. Suddenly he heard a scream.

"What? What?" he yelled, banging at the door. "What happened, Hermione? Let me in!"

The door opened, and he nearly fell in. He'd been about to kick the door open. In the doorframe stood a livid Hermione.

"What. The. Fuck. Is. This?" said Hermione, so slowly and carefully that it sounded murderous. Her eyes were round and almost bloody, mascara dripping down her cheeks. She looked like a little abused rag doll. Disturbed by this sight, Draco finally looked down at what Hermione was holding in her hands. It was a pair of lacy white knickers.

He couldn't control himself. He burst out laughing. His laughs slowed once he saw Hermione's face again. "What?" he said. "Those aren't yours?"

"No."

"But, I always steal your knickers. They're probably yours."

"No."

"Well, they're not mine," he said with a grin.

Silence.

"Fuck, Hermione, I don't know where they came from!" he said, tired of the deafening silence.

"Well then, why were they in your room?" replied Hermione, still looking livid.

"I don't know! I haven't been up here since noon."

"You came up here at noon?" asked Hermione sharply. "Why?"

Draco looked slightly uncomfortable. "Well...to change."

"And why would you need to change?" she demanded.

"Merlin, Hermione, stop acting like a deranged housewife!"

Ouch. Hermione bit back her retort, but threw the knickers in his face. Then, she stomped past him and entered her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Draco groaned in exasperation and walked over to her door. "Look, I'm sorry I said that. But you have to believe me! I have no idea where it came from. I swear on Merlin!"

Hermione was crying, but she could hear Draco's sincerity through the door. She knew he was telling the truth. And even if he was lying, she was much too tired to be angry about it.

"Go away now, Draco," came the muffled reply behind the door. Draco stepped back, looking surprised. He had expected her to yell at him. "I'll talk to you later but just...leave me alone now," said Hermione's voice. Draco nodded at the door, even though she couldn't see him, and walked back to his room.

And there he remained for the rest of the night.

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**A/N:** please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

_**~Veralena**_


	25. Chapter 24

**A/N:** thanks for the great reviews, everyone! hope you enjoy this one.

**

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Chapter 24**

It took two days for Hermione to resume talking to Draco again. Every time he passed her in the hallways, she would look away and strike up a conversation with Harry or Ron. She would not look at him in their Common Room, and she refused to be within ten feet of him. He tried many times to talk to her, but she would simply turn away from him. He didn't understand her anger. Hadn't she said she would talk to him later? He had thought she'd forgiven him. Well...guess not.

Finally, Hermione gave in to Draco's incessant pursuit, and gave him a small smile in Potions. He felt a gush of relief flood him, and decided to approach her that night in the Common Room.

He came up that night to find Hermione lying on the rug in front of the fireplace, quietly writing out her Charms paper. Draco threw his bag on the floor and walked over to her. She did not move. He reclined near her, one leg up, his arm resting on it, the other holding his body up.

"Wow Hermione, didn't know you had such a temper," said Draco, watching her as she continued writing.

She grimaced at the parchment. "Well, now you know."

"I hope you really _do_ believe me," said Draco. Hermione looked up at him, reading him with her eyes like just another one of her books. Then, she looked back down, smiling.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Good."

Draco looked down at Hermione, watching her carefully. It was one of his favorite things to do. She was a beautiful girl, no doubt. Her caramel hair, which she always kept curled now, hung down around her oval face. Her soft cheeks, which were always rosy pink, gave her a permanent blush, which he loved. Her dark eyes were framed with long lashes, and her lips were...oh...he couldn't stop the dirty thoughts. She was well-endowed, for sure. She was lying on her stomach, thus exposing her round rear. He clenched his fists. He wanted to ravage her right there on the rug, but she had only just begun speaking to him again and he wasn't sure if she was in the mood or not.

As if she could read his mind, Hermione turned around to lie on her side, facing him. She held up her head with a hand.

"What?" she asked, innocently enough.

"What what?" he answered, smirking.

"Why are you staring at me? I can feel it."

His lips remained curled. "What, now I can't look at you?"

She smiled. "Of course you can...I just...I don't know."

He gazed into her eyes. "You're constantly tempting me...Your body is..." but he couldn't finish the sentence.

Hermione blushed, hard. "Am I a temptress?" she asked cheekily.

Draco made a groan. "Oh yes, and you know it." His eyes trailed down her neck to her plump cleavage, simply beckoning to him. He looked back up at her. She had followed his eyes.

And now she was mirroring his smirk.

"I want you," said Draco in a low voice.

Hermione's eyes glinted, then she abruptly stood up. "Well, too bad," she said quickly.

"Huh?"

He stood up as well, confused. Suddenly, her hands were on his chest, pushing him back onto the sofa. He toppled onto it, his legs widespread, and she bent her knees, trailing her hands down his chest.

"Oh..." murmured Draco, his smirk returning as his body relaxed. His member was hardening at the sight of her chest pressed up against his groin. Her hands were undoing his belt buckle swiftly, her cheeks red, her eyes sparkling with sinful malice.

"Fuck yeah..." he sighed, his eyes closing as her hands plunged down his trousers, pulled down his boxers, and took hold of his rock-hard length. She massaged it for a moment, then gave it a long, slow lick. Oh yes, she was definitely in the mood now.

His eyes opened lazily, as the sensation of her lips careened through him. He smoothed away the hair from her face, watching hungrily as her plump lips closed over him, sucking his throbbing member. He couldn't stop himself from pushing her head further onto him, gasping at the feeling of her wet mouth on his dick. Groaning, his head fell back on the sofa, breathing heavily as she pumped her mouth on him.

He was about to cum when she pulled away from him, looking at him with smoldering eyes. He looked at her devilishly just as she focused her eyes on his groin. And then she frowned.

"What?" asked Draco, although the word came out as a sigh.

Hermione didn't say a word, but placed a hand on his lower thigh. Her index finger connected with her thumb; she was picking something up from his trousers.

"What's this?" she asked in a small voice.

Draco's eyes were still hazy, so he squinted to see what she was referring to. This was terrible timing. His cock was about to explode. Argh, the pain, the pain!

"I don't see anything," he said.

Hermione brought her hand closer to him, and he saw a long strand of blond hair. His eyes then focused on her face, knowing what was coming.

"No, Hermione, listen, nothing -,"

She stood up, her face a clean slate, but he knew she was raging inside.

"Really, Hermione, I haven't done -,"

"Don't!" she shouted. Her eyes were round and fiery. Mustering all his strength, Draco somehow managed to squeeze his erect length back into his trousers. He'd have to finish up on his own, it seemed.

"Who was it then, huh, Draco?" she said roughly, her face bitter. "Who did the exact same thing I was just doing to you? You're fucking a blonde now? Great. Just great. What's her name?"

"Nothing! No one! Merlin Hermione, I haven't done a single, blasted thing!"

"Then why was a piece of blond hair on your trousers? How the HELL can you explain something like that?!?"

"I don't know, Hermione, I don't know!" he yelled. "Just believe me! Maybe it just somehow got there!"

"You're lying."

"I'M NOT FUCKING LYING, HERMIONE! THIS HAS GOT TO STOP! I DIDN'T FUCKING DO _ANYTHING_! STOP READING INTO EVERY LITTLE DETAIL, FOR _FUCK'S_ SAKE!"

Hermione was silent. Draco had stood up, using his height to his full advantage to tower over her. The irritation of it all was getting to him. She was constantly suspicious, and she had just now left him sexually unsatisfied.

But he felt bad for yelling at her, because tears were beginning to drip down from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said in a tiny voice. Her hands dropped to her sides, and her eyes closed, the tears flowing thick and fast down her cheeks. Draco's insides melted to butter. He felt rotten. Never mind the painful strain in his groin.

"Oh, don't cry, Hermione..." he muttered, coming over to her and enveloping her in his arms. She sobbed into his chest, and he patted the back of her head softly, comforting her.

After a while, she looked up at him with wet eyes.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, and swiftly picked her up in his arms, kicking his bedroom door open and reaching the bed. He lay her down gently, kicked off his shoes, and slid in next to her, wrapping his arms around her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes as he nuzzled his nose into her neck.

"Sleep, Hermione. Just sleep."

*

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*

The next morning, Hermione woke up late. It was a Saturday, thank Merlin, so she didn't have classes to worry about. The pillow beside her was empty, so she assumed Draco was down at breakfast. Or lunch. She wasn't sure exactly how late it was.

Stretching into the sheets, Hermione sighed. She felt disgusting, as she hadn't changed out of her school outfit, nor had she washed her face or brushed her teeth. Sunlight was pouring into the room, and she smiled at the beauty of the day. She got up from Draco's bed to go to her own bedroom.

As she passed by his dresser, she saw a little note from him. Her heart warmed at the sight. Excitement reached her toes. This was Draco Malfoy, the evil villain of Slytherin – and he had just written his girl a note. How sweet!

Happily, she reached down to displace the bottle of cologne that was holding it in place. She realized it was not just a note, but a letter. She unfolded the parchment, and began to read.

It was not his handwriting.

_Draco –_

_I know you said no one ever goes in the Dark Forest, but honestly, if you think I'm going to have sex with you out in nature, you're a shithead. I don't want leaves and pine cones pricking me! Not to mention all those freaky animals that roam around..._

_No...if you want to meet me, come to the Room of Requirement again. Remember last time? I had to wear a scarf to hide my hickey. _

_Just make it soon okay? I want to see you again. And I know you want to fuck me. So show up. Same time as usual. I promise it'll be a night you won't forget._

_Kisses._

*

*

*

It was over. Definitely over. The pain lashed out, over and over and over again. The rising tide of betrayal had finally broken, all over and around Hermione. She couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't hold on anymore. How could she trust him any longer? How could she have made such a huge mistake?

She had shut herself up in her bedroom. She refused to come out. Curled up in her bed, her knees at her chest, tears pouring down her cheeks and onto the pillow...it was misery at its peak. This was hell.

He knew where she was the second he came back into the Common Room that day. He had seen her closed bedroom door, and he knew something terrible had happened. He walked into his own bedroom cautiously, and saw the letter lying on the ground near his dresser. When he read it, he knew too, that it was over. There would be no way of explaining this to her. There was no excuse. She would never believe him. And besides, what would he say? He had no proof, no alibi. It was finished.

He was too much of a stubborn man to cry, but he sure came close to it. He felt a heavy burden fall on his chest, the sudden realization that he would have to leave Hermione. He could not imagine his life without her anymore. She had completely changed him, a full three-sixty. He was a different man. A stranger, in his eyes. Someone who was compassionate, who cared, who loved.

Yes, he did love her. He had never said it to her, but he loved her. Though he was a stranger to himself now, he was proud of it. He was proud that he was a better person now. He had lived his whole life trying to run away from his father's influence. And she had succeeded in changing that in him. He loved her for making him the way that he was now.

He loved her for being able to stand up to him and be brave and courageous. She was a strong girl – no, woman. And her intelligence was incomparable. He did not know a single student in the entire school who was as smart as her.

But the remainder of the year would be the worst six months of his life. He did not know how he would live. He would have to see her everyday, and he knew it would give her pain, immense pain.

She was thinking the same thing. How could she go down to Potions, and be in the same room with him all the time? When their eyes would meet on the off chance, would they think of what could have been? Would they remember the times they had shared, like ex-lovers sometimes do? She felt old and miserable. She felt humiliated by his betrayal. She felt used. She felt worthless. Had she really been that uninteresting? Had their sex life really been that terrible, that he had had to go find it elsewhere?

She should have trusted her brain, which had been sending her several warning signals from the moment the evidence had started coming in. The lipstick stain, the perfume, the knickers, the strand of hair. And who the hell had written that letter? The whore who had written it had an annoying habit of crossing her o's to make them look like zeros, and every single letter had been flourished with curlicues. She should have known Draco would fuck someone like that. She should have trusted her head. Instead, she had trusted her heart, which had gone out to Draco's seemingly sincere voice. She loved him. She had trusted him. But now...

Every time in the past few months that she had been hurt by Draco's actions, she had questioned her decision, which seemed so long ago, to turn back time. She wasn't sure anymore if it had been wise. She was the only one who knew, and this deepened the burden of her secret. She could confide in no one. But every time she found herself in her bed, drowning in tears, she thought and thought.

Was someone trying to tell her something? Were all these problems being caused because she was never supposed to come back in the first place? Maybe she had not been destined to redo her seventh year, and now she was simply running against the grain, rewriting history. Her past was warped because of her decision. Problems upon problems had arisen. She remembered the sadness of her original seventh year. It had been tough, but the pain then had not been caused by other people, but by herself. She had not taken risks, had not risen to her full potential. She had been too shy and too quiet to let any goodness occur.

But this time, she had chucked all her worries out the door. She had succeeded in getting Draco – well, for a while – and she had gained popularity and friends. But it had been a bumpy ride. Maybe it was never to be. Maybe she was supposed to remain her true self forever.

The realization of this worried her sick. She did not know what to do. She would have to live with the consequences of her actions.

Something in her hardened. A silent resolve strengthened within her. She could not mope like this. Too many tears had been shed for Draco.

If she had to live out her seventh year in pain and misery...well, she would make Draco suffer too.

* * *

**A/N**: dun, dun, dun! They broke up!! Who saw that one coming?

Remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

_**~Veralena**_


	26. Chapter 25

**A/N: **Thanks for the great reviews! I must say, I have a penchant for writing about dances and Christmas Balls in all my stories. Hey - thats usually the best place for drama, after all. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

**

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Chapter 25**

The week before the Christmas Ball was a week of excitement, jealousy, fun, and tension. Girls who had not yet been asked were frantic, fearing major embarrassment at the idea of going alone. The same could be said for boys, although on a much more ear-friendly level. Dumbledore had managed to bring in a different band than last time, the Flaming Bats. Known for sporting sexy outfits, the Flaming Bats was a group of four wizards who were usually on every witch's wall. Even girls who had not before considered going to the Christmas Ball were now vying to see the famous band. The Great Hall had been undergoing preparations, such as the usual gigantic trees in all four corners of the room, lively tapestries, icicles hanging from banisters, magical frozen candles that still produced a warm glow, and massive Christmas baubles placed here and there. Anticipation was in the air.

For two certain people, however, it wasn't so fun. Draco and Hermione were still not talking, and it was increasingly obvious for all their classmates and friends. Not that they hadn't been like this before, but people usually noted that Hermione and Draco were on "speaking terms" because they had to be, being Head Boy and Head Girl. Little did they know that Hermione and Draco had had a secret relationship going on.

But now...it was certain that something between the two had happened. Now, they would not look at each other. Now...it seemed that the Gryffindor princess and the Slytherin prince were enemies. Again.

On Thursday, Professor McGonagall asked Hermione to stay after class ended. Feeling apprehensive, Hermione waited for Harry and Ron to go on to lunch, who looked back over their shoulders questioningly. Hermione simply assumed it had something to do with Head Girl duties, and walked up to Professor McGonagall.

"Miss Granger," started McGonagall, looking up from her papers, "I have some bad news."

Hermione's heart sank. This was obviously important, or McGonagall wouldn't make such a big deal out of it.

"Yes?" she said.

McGonagall looked weary and old, as if she had had to relay this message many times before. "I am afraid you must attend the Christmas Ball with...Draco Malfoy."

"WHAT?!?"

"Yes, I am terribly sorry. I know you two cannot stand the sight of each other, though I had hoped in the past few months you would have reconciled." McGonagall sighed. "As Head Boy and Head Girl, you two must attend together. It is only tradition."

Hermione's heart was pounding. This could not be happening. Of all the terrible things in the world, _this_ had to happen? She would have to face the man who had betrayed her, the man who had taken her virginity, the man she had trusted and loved...all over again? They would inevitably have to talk, and most likely dance, for the benefit of Dumbledore and the school...and pretend to like it? She shuddered. This would be a nightmare.

"Professor..." she started hesitantly. "Is there anyway to...not -,"

"I have tried, Miss Granger!" said McGonagall, sighing heavily. "I have thought about this many times, implored to Dumbledore to rethink the situation. But you must fulfill your duties and uphold the tradition. You may see portraits dating back hundreds of years, if you like. They all show the Head Boy and Head Girl together at the Christmas Ball."

Hermione looked at the floor, feeling tiny in comparison to all the history of Hogwarts preceding her. She, of course, would know that McGonagall wasn't lying. Hermione had read _Hogwarts: A History_ countless times. She looked at McGonagall and nodded.

The older woman gave Hermione a rare smile. "Thank you, Miss Granger."

Hermione turned to leave, when something nagged at her brain. She turned around. "Professor...does Malfoy know about this yet?"

"Yes, Professor Snape informed him today as well."

"Right," whispered Hermione. "Okay. Thanks, Professor."

And then she left the room.

*

*

*

"NO!" shouted Draco.

Snape rolled his small black eyes, twirling his wand in his left hand. "You must do this, Draco...even if it is a mudblood."

Draco shot Snape an angry look. He was accustomed to hating that word now. But he remembered what had happened and that he had to keep his act up as if nothing between him and Hermione had ever happened.

"Snape -," he started.

"That's Professor to you!" hissed Snape.

Draco folded his arms. "Whatever. Listen, I can't go with Herm – Granger. She hates me!"

"That's wonderful," said Snape lazily. Merlin. Student politics were so below him. He was rubbing elbows with the Dark elite, and here he was listening to boys moan about girls.

Draco looked at Snape expectantly. Snape gave him a long hard look, then threw up his hands.

"Listen, boy, these are Dumbledore's orders! This is a known tradition. And if your immense ego is too encumbering for you to handle, then that is simply too bad. You are to escort the know-it-all at eight o'clock on Saturday and that is final."

Draco glared at Snape, then turned on his heel and strode away.

*

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*

Hermione's ears were tired. The constant hum of enthusiasm in the Gryffindor Common Room was deafening. It was Saturday afternoon, and most people had just returned from lunch and, in the girls' cases, were starting to get ready. Hermione was sitting with Ron and Harry, curled up on the floor near Harry's knees. Ron and Harry were reclining on the sofa.

"Well, at least you'll both have fun," said Hermione, somewhat miserably.

"I can't believe you still haven't told us what happened," said Harry from above her.

Hermione shrugged. When Ron and Harry had seen her on Monday, they had known something was wrong. All she had told them was that she had fought with Draco, and that they were not even on speaking terms anymore. But Harry knew it went much deeper than that.

Ron grunted. "When I find out what that little bastard has done to you...I'm gunna finish him."

"Yes, please do," said Hermione quietly.

Both Harry and Ron leaned forward at the same time. "Hermione," said Harry urgently, "what did he do to you?"

Hermione shook her head, looking down at her crossed legs. She didn't want the tears to come, especially in a crowded room, so she looked up and kept her eyes wide open.

"Are you okay?" asked Ron awkwardly. The words sounded odd coming from his mouth.

"Yes...I'm fine," said Hermione. She would _not_ lose her cool on a night when she needed her strength. "Just make sure...if you see him...give him a good beating."

"Fine with me," said Ron.

"But aren't you going to the Ball with him tonight?" asked Harry.

Hermione nodded miserably.

"It'll be fine. We'll be there to protect you," said Harry, with a grin. Ron laughed, and the two boys leaned back onto the sofa.

Just then Bridgette came frolicking down the stairs like an innocent little girl. She tumbled into Ron's lap, and he smothered her with kisses.

"Ah, stop, stop!" giggled Bridgette. Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes and looked away.

"Well," said Hermione heavily, "I think I'm going to head up. Need to get prepared for tonight."

"All right," sighed Harry. "See you later." He looked helplessly at her, glancing at Ron, who was still kissing Bridgette. Hermione grimaced, then ran off.

*

*

*

Hermione had locked herself up in her bedroom for nearly two and a half hours. The Ball was going to begin shortly, but she had decided she was going to take her own sweet time. Draco would just have to wait.

After hours of straightening and curling her hair, after spraying it with copious amounts of magical solutions, after covering her entire body with creams and sparkles, after tightening the corset of her ball gown, after slipping her feet into the dainty shoes she had purchased, she was finally done. Even if she had put lots of effort into her appearance, at least she was (moderately) comfortable.

She'd made a silent resolve. If Draco's whore was to be there, then she, Hermione, would walk in on his arm looking like she owned him. She would show the slut. She would show the bitch that she was a thousand times more gorgeous and more intelligent than her. And that she was Head Girl, who shared a room with the Head Boy.

Hermione crumpled into the chair by her dresser. Oh, who was she kidding? She was not like this. She was not one to exact revenge on someone, especially in this way. By looks, and by status? She had not been raised to think of people as beneath her.

Maybe some of Draco's traits had rubbed off on her. She shuddered. Then she finally made up her mind. If Draco and his secret whore had to play dirty...well, she would too.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione opened her bedroom door.

* * *

_Holy Mother of Merlin_...thought Draco. His mind went blank for a few seconds. There was a vision standing in front of him. Hermione was dressed in a golden, spangled ball gown. It was strapless, exposing her lush neckline and feminine shoulders, tightened at the waist with a corset, and flaring out at her hips into a wide skirt. Her hair was done up in curls, half up, half down, a single lock curling sexily down towards her cleavage. Her pouty lips were glossy and juicy, her eyes dark as night. He wanted to take her, right there, against the bookshelves.

Then he remembered the circumstances, and his face hardened, if only slightly. He himself was in a black tuxedo, looking extremely aristocratic; but then again, it was in his blood to have such a haughty composure at all times. His blond hair was gelled back, and with his pale skin, he looked beautiful in a ghostly way. Terribly handsome, with his chiselled chin and piercing eyes. Terribly irresistible, with his confident stride towards her. He could see Hermione gulp nervously, and he felt that old feeling back in his bones.

* * *

"Are you really not going to talk to me at all, Granger?" asked Draco, trying to be as civil as he could.

Hermione said nothing, but accepted Draco's arm. She lifted her skirt with her free hand, and the two made their way down the staircases.

"Oh, come on, Granger," continued Draco, "you'll have to enjoy my company all night. How could you not talk to me?"

Hermione was amazed at how the realization that he had hurt her was simply passing over his head. Did he not realize that it killed her inside to be on the arm of this hateful man, and yet fill her with longing to be in such close proximity to him? She shook her head, and told herself to suck it up. She was going to have to be strong tonight.

"Oh, I'll talk to you, Malfoy," she said harshly, "but only out of necessity."

He jerked his head, clearly taken aback that she had talked to him at all, so Hermione let him mull over her words as she took in her surroundings. They were descending from the central staircases, and the large foyer was crawling with people. The guys were in black, of course, with the exception of some stupid seventh-years who had thought it hilarious to wear pink robes. The girls provided the colour in the room, in a rainbow of ball gowns. The doors to the Great Hall had been covered in icicles, and the students could hear the Flaming Bats testing the instruments inside. Hermione spotted Ron and Harry, in matching black robes, standing some distance away. She caught Harry's eye and waved to him, who waved back. She noticed Bridgette, in a pale pink dress, clinging to Ron's arm, and Ginny, in a dark green gown, holding Harry's hand. She looked nervous.

There were still a few minutes left until the doors would open, so Draco and Hermione remained high on the staircases, away from the throng of students. Hermione didn't see any reason to hold onto Draco's arm, so she let go of him. Suddenly, she didn't feel so good. A nauseous feeling rose up inside her; she felt dizzy. Her eyes rolled upwards, her spine lost shape, then she was out.

"_Hurry up, Ron!" squealed Hermione. Ron was pushed out of the Boy's Dormitory by Harry, looking dashing in his black robes. Ron, also in black, looked queasy._

"_Oy!" he shouted, frowning back at Harry. Hermione and Harry laughed, who nodded at Hermione once he saw her properly._

"_You look nice!" he said genuinely. Hermione smiled at him, and then looked at Ron expectantly._

"_You look...great!" mustered Ron, looking guilty. In truth, Hermione _did_ look much more put-together than usual. _

_Hermione shrugged. Nothing was going to put her down tonight. She was dressed to impress – especially one man in particular. She couldn't wait to see him. Excitedly, she took Ron's arm, and the two made their way down to the Great Hall..._

… … …

_...Oh, Merlin! Had he just looked at her? Had that disdainful glance been towards her? Hermione blushed furiously, feeling like this was a school girl crush. She felt like she was five._

_Draco was looking delectable. He was dancing in the very middle of the floor with Pansy. Well, more like dirty dancing. It was late into the night, and the music had turned to a slower pace. Couples were all around her, grinding their bodies into each other. Hermione looked back at Draco. Pansy had her back to him, and he had his hands on her waist, but his eyes were elsewhere. Was Hermione imagining it, or were they on her? Hermione felt like she was going to hyperventilate, and began fixing her dress. But when she looked back up, his eyes were not on her anymore. Or maybe she had just imagined it..._

… … …

_..."Get out of my way, Granger," said a snobby voice. Hermione knew it like her own. The Ball was over, and students were walking back to their Dormitories sleepily. Harry and Ron were trailing somewhere behind her in the crowd. She turned around to see Draco's pale face, stalking past her with pig-snouted Pansy clinging to his arm. _

"_Get out of mine, ferret," she hissed back. Draco narrowed his eyes but said nothing, swaggering away with Pansy. Hermione smiled triumphantly to herself..._

The world was spinning. The scene melted before Hermione's eyes. The old Hermione remained, however, stagnant, unnaturally still. Behind her was only black. The old Hermione's face was pale, sickly pale. It looked dangerous and desperate at the same time. When she spoke, her voice thundered louder than a jet plane, echoing several times in Hermione's ears.

"_Tonight...tonight you will realise...tonight you will understand...tonight you will regret...,"_ declared the old Hermione, even as she started melting away too, _"tonight..."_ her legs disappeared, as did her arms, then her torso, and finally her face, _"tonight..."_ trailed her voice, coming from the black expanse in front of Hermione's eyes, _"tonight..."_

And then she regained consciousness.

Someone was shaking her gently but urgently. Hermione opened her eyes blearily, looking up to see Draco's worried expression. He was holding her in his arms.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed together. "What happened?"

Hermione straightened herself out of Draco's arms, feeling shaken up, but also feeling the strength come back into her body.

"I'm fine," she said sharply. Even over the loud buzz of the students around her, she could still hear the words of her former self ringing in her ears. Tonight...

"Miss Granger! Mr. Malfoy!" came McGonagall's voice. Draco groaned, rolling his eyes, and let the Professor usher them towards the front of the huge double doors.

"You must both initiate the Ball!" exclaimed McGonagall. "Come now, stand in front. Back straight, Mr. Malfoy, posture is everything! Miss Granger, please look a little more cheerful. Take Mr. Malfoy's arm. Yes. Good. Ready? All right. Open the doors!"

* * *

**A/N**: Oh goodness, I'm excited! And I'm the author, for god's sake! Haha, anyways, please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

_**~Veralena**_


	27. Chapter 26

**A/N**: it has been an incredibly busy 2 weeks, so please forgive me for the long wait. thank you so much to all the reviewers. I read every single review, and they make me very happy. i certainly hope you enjoy this chapter!

**

* * *

Chapter 26**

The Great Hall was beautiful. The sheer decadence was mind-boggling. Hermione felt like she was in a medieval Chateau de Versailles. Golden orneries were everywhere, tapestries covering the walls, mirrors placed on opposite sides to make the Great Hall appear even greater, opulent chandeliers coming down from the ceiling, casting a dim glow over the gleaming wooden parquet floor. On one side of the room was a small stage upon which the Flaming Bats were standing. The band had their costumes on, which were black pants, no shirts, and red-orange bat wings attached to their backs. Hermione saw girls around her swoon. Little round tables were placed here and there. It was just like the Yule Ball, only now they were older, and it was the whole population of Hogwarts. Or rather, half, as first-, second-, and third-years were not invited.

The professors were sitting opposite the double doors along their stretched table, hung now in festive red linen. Dumbledore, sporting black and violet, stood and clapped once. The Flaming Bats started playing classical music, which sounded and looked odd, considering their costumes. McGonagall gave Draco a push; Hermione tightened her arm around his, and the two walked into the Hall.

Students followed, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the decorations and at the band. Hermione saw Bridgette and Ron in the corner of her eye, Bridgette looking ecstatic. As the crowd poured in the double doors, the chandeliers descended slightly while dimming, just as the tiny candles at each table glowed brighter. Students took their seats. Only a small bit of arguing ensued; Dumbledore had refrained from using a seating plan. Hermione spotted Harry and started walking towards his table. Draco clenched her arm.

"Where do you think you're going, Granger?" he hissed. "You're sitting at my table."

"No!" she whispered loudly. "I want to sit with _my_ friends."

"Granger," he started, looking extremely annoyed, "there's no way in _hell_ I am going to go through this dinner with Potty and the Weasel for company."

"Well _Malfoy_, there's no way in hell I'm going through this dinner with pug-nosed Pansy and bitchy Blaise for company," she retorted.

They gave each other evil looks through narrowed eyes, and then Draco relaxed.

"Ok, let's compromise then, Granger. Half the dinner at my table, and the other half at yours."

Hermione looked suspicious for a moment. "Fine," she replied.

"And since I came up with the idea, we're starting at mine," said Draco smoothly.

"Excuse me, but when did _we_ decide that?" asked Hermione.

Draco smirked. "Just now."

He steered her towards the left side of the room, to the far corner where Blaise and Pansy were sitting. Blaise, in a complete black ensemble, had come with Daphne Greengrass, with slick straight blond hair and a tight silver dress. Pansy, in a Victorian style magenta ball gown, was with Theodore Nott, who was looking thin but who had a haunting face. Pansy's features hardened when she saw Draco approaching with Hermione.

"Well…that's where the stink is coming from," she said nastily, holding up Theodore's handkerchief daintily to her nose.

Draco gave her a warning look, and then pulled out the chair for Hermione. She glanced at him through narrowed eyes, suspicious of his courteousness, and then sat down. Once Draco had joined the table, Blaise clapped him on the shoulder.

"So!" started Blaise loudly. Hermione gave him an odd look. Why was Blaise looking so happy to see her? "How's it going, old chap?" he asked Draco, his eyes round.

Draco very subtly shook his head at him, glancing at Hermione. "Old chap?" replied Draco disdainfully…and nervously. "What's gotten into you, Blaise?"

Blaise looked from Draco to Hermione and back again. He stopped smiling once he saw Draco's expression.

"If I may have your attention, please!" came Dumbledore's magnified voice from the front of the Hall. All the heads in the room turned towards him: a sea of chestnut, butter, ginger, and dark chocolate.

"Welcome, everyone," said Dumbledore, raising his arms, "to the Christmas Ball!"

Applause rose from all the tables, excited chattering spreading in the room.

"I hope that you all enjoy the delicious feast, the wonderful music provided by the infamous Flaming Bats, and the engaging company of all your friends!"

Dumbledore clapped once, and all the food appeared magically on the tables: roast lamb, butterbeer, pumpkin soup…

"Horrible…just horrible," murmured Pansy.

"What's horrible?" asked Hermione.

Pansy gave her a look full of loathing. "I wasn't speaking to _you_, bookworm." She looked around at Hannah Abbott's table and then turned to Daphne conspiratorially. "Just look at her dress!"

Daphne shook her head, as if the plight of Hannah's dress was simply too disturbing for her eyes. Her blond hair shimmered.

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"…really don't know _where_ these people get their fashion sense from," said Daphne. "By the way, Draco, my father wanted to know if you're coming to Felding this summer."

Hermione looked at Draco. "What's Felding?"

"You mean _where_ is Felding," said Daphne nastily. "You've never heard of Felding Hills? Oh, but of course you haven't." Daphne raised a hand to her lips in mock realization. "You're not a pureblood, are you. In fact, you're not even a halfblood."

"Shut it, Daphne," hissed Draco through gritted teeth.

She looked amused. "What's got your silky little boxers in a twist, Draco?" She gave him a flirty eyeful. "Oh, don't tell me…" and she left the phrase unfinished by giving him a slow, long wink.

"OW!"

Hermione withdrew her long fingernails from Draco's thigh. "Is this it, Malfoy?" she whispered, so quietly that the rest of the table couldn't hear her words. "You let me go for…Daphne Greengrass?"

"What? No!" exclaimed Draco, his eyebrows furrowing. "She's just -,"

"You are coming then, right Draco?" called Daphne's voice.

Draco looked into Hermione's eyes for a moment longer, before turning to Daphne.

"To Felding?" he asked. "Yes, of course."

"Wonderful," replied Daphne. "Astoria will be there as well."

"Astoria…"muttered Draco. "How is she?"

"Young. Bratty. What do you expect from someone who went to Beauxbatons?"

Pansy popped into the conversation. "I still can't believe your father let her go so far away, Daphne."

"Me neither. I can understand why though…He doesn't really trust Dumbledore. Soft old man, in my opinion. Astoria needs some strict French discipline."

Blaise snorted. "In what? White face paint and prostitution?"

Pansy laughed raucously. "I can't wait to interrogate her this summer."

"You know, Draco, you'd better show up," said Daphne. "My father insisted specifically that you come to Felding this year."

"Why?" asked Draco.

"He didn't say. He wants to talk to you about something."

Draco frowned. "Well, I'll be there for sure."

Blaise leaned back in his chair. "Of course he will," he said. "Martinis, gambling, lovely women…" he raised his glass to Daphne and Pansy, who smirked. "Who could resist?"

Hermione looked at Draco, trying hard not to see the image in her mind of him lying lazily across a sofa, cards falling from a hand, a glass in the other, with a girl draped over his torso. It frightened her that the image came so quickly. Draco fit Blaise's description perfectly.

"I could resist," said Theodore. He hadn't spoken all this time, but only Hermione seemed surprised to hear him talk.

"Of course, Theo," said Daphne charmingly. "But we all know your soft spot."

They all laughed. Obviously Hermione was missing out on something.

"Oh, now I'm all excited!" exclaimed Pansy.

"Oh, yes," said Daphne. "Me, you, Blaise, Draco, Theodore. We can add Millicent in there. _Please_ not Crabbe and Goyle!"

"Are you daft?" asked Pansy. "Of course they're not invited. They never are."

Throughout the conversation, Hermione couldn't help but notice Daphne's appearance. The blond hair…the red lips. Her breasts were spilling out of her expensive gown, drawing the eyes of all the boys at their table. Daphne kept giving playful looks at Draco, who seemed to be returning them in equal fervour. A sick feeling rose up in Hermione's stomach, but she remained quiet, eating silently.

After most people had finished dinner, the Flaming Bats struck a faster beat, luring people onto the dance floor. Couples were soon littered all over parquet floor.

Hermione took a deep breath and threw her napkin onto the table.

"Care to dance, Malfoy?" she asked, turning to him. She could feel the eyes of Daphne, Pansy, Blaise and Theodore on her, menacingly hostile. Draco's stony expression did not change.

"Granger," he said very quietly. "I don't dance."

"I insist," she whispered dangerously.

Daphne raised her eyebrows at Hermione. "He said he doesn't want to dance. Back off."

Hermione snapped her head in Daphne's direction. "Actually, why don't you?" she hissed. "I think I can handle _my date_ just fine."

Daphne looked astonished that Hermione had just talked back to her. "What's your problem, bitch?" she said.

"Watch who you're calling bitch, bitch."

The heads at the table were going back and forth; even Pansy's mouth was open. Draco pressed Hermione's thigh, urging her to stop. She turned to him and extended her hand.

Draco gave her an odd look, and then took her hand. Standing up, she gave a triumphant look at Daphne. She could still feel the glares of the Slytherins on her as she and Draco walked over to the dance floor.

The Flaming Bats were playing a slow but intense song. Draco grabbed Hermione's waist roughly and pressed her to him. It seemed he'd lost the act he'd been putting on at the Slytherin table.

"What's going on, Granger?" he seethed in her ear.

She tried to pull away from him, but he made it impossible, encasing her in his arms. The feel of his hard body on hers made her shiver with delight, but the hate, jealousy and anger filled her heart.

"I needed to talk to you, Malfoy," she said acidly, "away from your prying, snobby friends."

"That was one hell of a bitch fight."

"Why thank you."

He was trying hard not to run his hands all over her. Her luscious curves were pressing on him, and her delicious scent was wafting to his nostrils. He wanted her right here, right now. But he settled for lowering his hands on the small of her back.

"You slept with her, didn't you?" she said, bringing him harshly back to the conversation.

"Who?"

"Daphne."

"No!"

"Don't lie, Malfoy."

He looked at her, trying to convince her with his eyes, and then turned away, sighing heavily.

"All right, I did."

Hermione's insides collapsed. She clutched Draco in support, trying to stay still. He held onto her, keeping her back straight. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear.

"But it wasn't like that, Hermione. It was a long time ago. We were young – ah, I mean younger," he revised, seeing the shocked expression on her face. "A few summers ago, at Felding."

"So that's why she was so excited about it," said Hermione faintly.

"I suppose so…"

Hermione straightened in his arms. She took a deep breath. She was all right.

The music was getting louder, and more intense. The sounds were surrounding them, the lights dimming even more, enveloping the people on the floor in darkness. Sweat glistened on skin from the close proximity of body heat. Pulses raced, desires soared. The throbbing beat kept the floor alive. The darkness of the room was allowing people to do things they would have otherwise not done. Inhibitions were left aside. Identities were temporarily forgotten. Draco buried his nose in Hermione's hair and sniffed her scent in an animalistic way. He hungered for her. He wanted to feel the sensation of being with her, in her, scraping his fingers across her skin. She couldn't help give in to his touches. She craned her neck up, allowing his lips to ravage her, feeling his nails dig into her hips. Hurt and anger washed away, to make way for pure, raw passion. She wanted him.

The song ended. The magical web broke. Couples drew reluctantly away, applauding for the Flaming Bats. Hermione came back to her senses and drew away from Draco, afraid anyone would now notice that they were in a compromising position. His hands automatically reached for her, and she could see the hunger clearly in his eyes. In her peripheral vision, she saw Daphne approaching.

"Come on, Malfoy," she said, grabbing his hand and steering him away in the opposite direction towards the table where Harry and the others sat. "Now it's my turn."

* * *

**A/N:** had a hard time trying to think of a name for the Slytherin elite party-place. i think my favorite part of writing this chapter was the description above...the music and the dancefloor and the people on it. the rawness of people on a dancefloor, where music is the atmosphere...i love that. anyways, sorry about my rambling. please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

side note:** If Only** has been nominated for the **2009 DRAMIONE AWARDS** for Best WIP/Incomplete Tale!!! I'm ecstatic! Thank you so much to Ceylon for the nomination!!

_**~Veralena**_


	28. Chapter 27

**A/N:** i know, i know. i was late to update. my extreme apologies. heres the next chapter, and i hope you enjoy it!

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**Chapter 27**

"Hi," said Hermione breathlessly, sitting down at the table. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Bridgette looked not at her, but at her date.

"So you brought the Death Eater with you, eh?" said Ron nastily.

"Ron!" chided Hermione.

Draco looked uncomfortable. He sat down uneasily and glared at Ron for a long moment.

"Scared, Weasley?" he replied with arrogance. "You could always go and hide in the rubbish bin. Cozy, isn't it? Because of course, you would know."

Ron suddenly made for Draco across the table, and both Harry and Bridgette had to hold him down. Ron's face was turning beet red, contrasting horribly with his ginger hair. Hermione turned to Draco.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she spat.

"What are you talking about, Granger? That's how we always greet each other," he said, gesturing at the struggling Ron.

"Get out of here," said Harry, giving Draco a dirty look.

Draco leaned back on his chair. "If I could, Potty, I would. But your little girlfriend here," he stuck a thumb at Hermione, "insisted that we all torment each other at this table."

"_I'm_ his girlfriend," said Ginny.

Harry and Hermione looked at her. There was silence for a few seconds.

"Yes, we already know that, Weaslette," said Draco, breaking the awkwardness. "I suppose," he continued, looking at Harry now, "she was drawn to your stardom, wasn't it? Got chased by a couple of Death Eaters, followed by the Dark Lord for a few years. My, Potter, you even let them kill Diggory." Harry started snarling at Draco's words, which just kept on coming. "She wanted to get Scarhead before anyone else did."

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy," said Hermione through gritted teeth. Draco smirked at her before giving Harry a gloating look. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"At least my father's not trapped in Azkaban," he said.

Draco snorted. "At least my father's not dead."

"Yet," finished Harry.

They stared at each other, pure hatred flowing between them. There was silence for a few more moments.

"Harry," came Ginny's voice. "Let's dance."

"Gladly," he replied fiercely, sparing Draco a murderous look before taking Ginny's hand and leading her out onto the floor.

"Let's dance, too, Hermione," said Draco, grabbing her hand.

"What? Now?" she asked.

Draco stood up, dragging her along. "Yes. Now." They left Ron and Bridgette at the table gaping after the two angry couples.

Draco grasped Hermione's waist and swung her to the beat. All along the floor, people were staring at the two of them. Girls were sharing glances with each other, their mouths twitching as if they were dying to discuss this piece of gossip. Hermione's fellow Gryffindors were not quite so happy with her date, and the same could be said for the Slytherins. But word had gotten around (courtesy of Harry and Ron) that they had been forced to go together.

"What are you looking at?" asked Draco. He was watching Hermione's eyes, which were somewhere to the right of him.

"At him."

"Oh, at the pompous prat digging a hole into my back?"

Hermione gave Draco a dirty look. "Yes, at Harry."

Draco smirked. "Why look at him? Look at the Slytherin Prince that stands before you."

Hermione saw his eyes twinkle as he said it. She found him to be going slowly back to the way he was prior to their relationship the more he spent time in the midst of his friends. The arrogance was surely returning.

"You're the one being a prat, Malfoy."

He turned their bodies so that now he was facing Harry. 'Fuck you' he mouthed.

"Stop being such a prick!" exclaimed Hermione.

Just then, Romilda Vane's voice rang out. "Hello everyone!"

She had obviously used a charm to let her voice carry, because all the heads in the room turned towards her.

"If you'd all please listen to this brief announcement," she started excitedly. "Assuming you've all seen the notice boards in your Common Rooms, if everyone could please submit their votes for Best Witchard, also known as the Best Couple award! The box is right here." And from the ground in front of the Staff table rose a stand holding a heavy copper box, precisely where the Goblet of Fire had once stood.

The Flaming Bats, who had paused for Romilda, continued again, but this time there was a buzz in the Hall with which they had to compete. People were murmuring their choices.

"Oh…I completely forgot about the vote," said Hermione. "Our Common Room doesn't have a notice board."

"Witchard?" asked Draco.

"Witch and wizard couple. Don't bother. It's one of Romilda's little ideas."

"Not a bad one. I'm going to vote for us." He smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes…of course…"

"Liven up a little, Granger. Why do you hate me so much anyway?"

She almost choked from shock.

"You're joking, right?"

He shook his head.

She cocked her eyebrows. "Let me see…why do I hate Draco Malfoy? Well, there is the fact that he had lipstick stains on his shirt, and they definitely weren't from me. He also had the scent of ladies perfume on him, as well as a long piece of blond hair on his pants. Then I found a pair of lacy panties in his bedroom, and oh yes, a fuck-me letter on his dresser. And at the end of all that, he didn't even bother to apologize. So, I think that just about sums up why I hate you, Malfoy."

They had stopped dancing. Draco looked surprised to hear his crimes, said in such a casual manner. He didn't like it. Not one bit.

"That's not fair, Granger."

"It never is."

She glared at him through narrowed eyes, and he returned the look. She wasn't in the mood to be around him anymore. Everything about his perfect features was annoying her now.

"Fine," he hissed. "Believe what you want. You never bothered to hear my side of the story, so why should you even concern yourself with this?"

"I don't _want_ to hear your side of the story, Malfoy. Not unless I want to hear your about your sexcapades with all the sluts in the school. In fact, get your hands off me," she said, pushing him away, "I don't want to be contaminated."

"Yeah, good luck with that, _mudblood_."

She gave him a look of pure loathing, seething at the fact that he had stooped that low yet again. He hadn't used the word ever since she had told him not to do so.

"Die in hell, Malfoy," she spat, turning on her heel and walking away.

He called after her. "Yeah, Granger. I'll see you there."

Hermione weaved her way through the mingling crowd, her heart pounding as it always did after confrontations such as these. She didn't like feeling this way, but she focused on her goal: sit down before her knees gave up. She made it to Ron's table and found him chatting with Bridgette.

"Oh, hi, Hermione," he said, giving her smile as she sat down beside him. "Tired already?" he asked.

"Yes," she lied. To emphasize her point, she took one of her heels off and massaged her foot.

"We were just talking about how mean it is of Dumbledore to stick you and that Malfoy boy together," said Bridgette pityingly. "Poor you."

"Yes," Hermione breathed. "Poor me."

"Hey, gorgeous," said a deep voice.

Hermione turned her head to see a brown-haired, brown-eyed guy, around sixth-year. She would have turned back to Ron and Bridgette if she hadn't recognized his voice.

"You!"

Paul smiled. "You remember, I see."

She leaned back a little from him. The last time she had seen Paul was in the corner of Platform Nine and Three Quarters, backing away from him as he insisted they get to know each other better. Thankfully, Mr. Weasley had come to her rescue.

He noticed her hesitance, and cocked his head. "I'm sorry about the last time you saw me," he said apologetically. "I was suffering from a hangover."

"Hangover?"

"My girlfriend and I had just broken up."

"I see."

"So…a dance?"

Hermione looked at Ron, who simply shrugged and turned back to Bridgette, and then she took Paul's hand. He led her out onto the dance floor, and she let him twirl her around and around in circles.

"So what's it like, being Head Girl?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not all it's cracked up to be, believe me. First of all, I'm separated from the rest of civilization in the corner of the castle, and second, I have to share my space with the world's largest bastard."

He nodded sympathetically. "I can understand that. I'd hate to be stuck with someone not from my own house."

"Which is?" She couldn't tell because he was wearing dress robes.

"Slytherin."

Hermione gaped. Paul laughed. "Yeah, didn't see that one coming, eh?" he said. She grinned and shook her head.

"I know the 'bastard' you're talking about," he continued, and then he adopted a posh accent. "Mister Malfoy, the Prince of Slytherin." Hermione laughed, as did he. "I don't know how you put up with him," he said.

"Neither do I."

"Such a pretty girl, and such a waste, stuck up in the tower with the beast."

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

"Yes," he grinned, "yes it does."

They danced for a while, before Hermione noticed Draco over Paul's shoulder. He was staring at the two of them dancing happily. She couldn't help but adopt Draco's smirk, triumphant over the fact that he was jealous as hell that Paul had taken his place.

"Bloody hell, he looks murderous," said Paul, following Hermione's line of sight. "I'd best watch my back."

"Yes," replied Hermione, caught in her eye-fight with Draco. "You should."

Paul looked between her and Draco. "Hang on…" he said, his eyes narrowing, "you two aren't -,"

"Hello!"

Romilda's squeaky voice cut the air around them. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Paul had come quite close to the truth, much too close for comfort. She nodded at Romilda.

"I need you, Hermione, to come count the votes."

Hermione looked around her. People were done voting already?

"But, I haven't submitted one myself yet!" said Hermione.

Romilda looked at her as if she were stupid. "The votes are done by couples. Draco has already voted for you."

"What? That's not fair!"

"Too late. Now come with me."

Hermione turned to Paul helplessly, and said goodbye, following Romilda to the big copper box at the front. The last few people were sticking little bits of parchment into the slit at the top of the box. They waited until the area was clear. Romilda dragged a small table over.

"Here you are, Hermione. You can get started now."

Hermione looked askance. "I have to count all these votes…alone?"

"Of course not! You'll have Draco to help you!"

And just like that, Draco appeared beside them, looking haughty.

"No," said Hermione firmly.

"Well, sorry, Hermione," replied Romilda, "but you're Head Boy and Head Girl. It's your job. Let me know who wins!"

And she traipsed away.

Hermione looked at Draco. Draco looked at Hermione. What a great night.

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**A/N**: please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update! i really appreciate reviews.

**_~Veralena_**


	29. Chapter 28

**A/N: **an earlier update for all my readers! a very pivotal chapter, so i hope you enjoy it. happy easter!**  


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**Chapter 28**

"One for Lara Clyde and Justin Finch-Fletchley," droned Hermione, turning the parchment over, "and one for Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini," she finished, slapping the piece of parchment over to her right before grabbing another from the open copper box. Draco ticked off the names.

"One for Seamus Finnigan and Lavendar Brown," continued Hermione. "Seems like they voted for themselves."

"How would you know?" asked Draco.

She shoved the parchment under his nose. "Look at that handwriting. It's Lavendar's."

"You got an eye for that kind of thing, Granger."

"Thanks, ferret," she hissed, before turning the vote over. "And the other for Romilda Vane and Benjamin Garret." Each person was so vote for one couple, but couples were to submit their votes on the same parchment. It was a stupid idea, in Hermione's opinion, but she wasn't organizing it, so she didn't care.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her before glancing back down at his scroll and ticking off the names. Hermione sighed and reached for another vote from the large copper box. The music had lulled; some couples remaining on the dance floor were lazily turning in circles. Most everyone else was sitting at their tables, chatting with their friends. The teachers were socializing at the Staff table, and light snow was drifting down from the ceiling. The frontman of the Flaming Bats was singing a soft song –

'_So she came to me,_

_In flaming red,_

_Took the potion from her cauldron,_

_And dragged me to bed,_

_I took out my wand,_

_And turned off the light,_

_But she morphed into a bat,_

_And gave me a bite.__'_

"What a horrid song," exclaimed Parvati, as she swivelled close to Hermione and Draco's table with Dean.

Hermione nodded, watching Parvati lean close to their table.

"So…," she whispered, "who's winning?" Her eyes glowed bright in contrast to her warm, earthy skin.

Hermione sighed. "I can't say, Parvati."

Parvati frowned, then twirled away with Dean. Hermione searched the Hall for Harry and Ron, and found them at their table again, talking amiably with Bridgette and Ginny. Hermione exhaled. She wished she could be at that table.

"I'm waiting, mudblood," came Draco's sharp voice, snapping Hermione's attention back to the task at hand.

"Don't call me that!" she hissed.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't have all day. Hurry up and read the next vote."

She gave him a dirty look, and then plunged her hand into the box again.

"One for Ron and Bridgette," she said, turning the vote over, "and one for Harry and Ginny." Even as she said the names, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Hang on," she muttered, examining the vote.

"What?" He leaned in close to see what she was looking at.

Hermione remained quiet, but her heart was pounding. "I'll be back," she said, rising distractedly. Draco stared after her confusedly.

Hermione walked brusquely towards Harry's table. It seemed like her peripheral vision had gone dark, and her eyes were simply focusing on the table and the people sitting at it, particularly on one person. She knew she was slowly going into hyperventilation mode, but she wanted to make sure she was right before she did so. Her dress swaying around her, she marched up to Harry, Ginny, Ron and Bridgette, and stood stock still in front of them.

"Is this your vote, Harry?" she demanded, holding the parchment in front of his face.

He looked at her surprisedly. "Hermione…what's going on?"

"Just answer the question, Harry!"

He gave her an odd look, as if questioning her sanity, then leaned in to examine the paper. "Yeah…that's my vote."

Hermione looked at Harry's sloppy handwriting, his messy R's and G's. He had written Ron and Bridgette as best couple. _Like he had a choice_, thought Hermione, grimacing bitterly. Every nerve in her body shivered when she turned the vote over.

"And that would mean," she continued, her voice quaking, "that this is _your_ vote, Ginny?"

The table was silent, watching Hermione's shuddering form, and Harry's confused face, and Ginny's rounded eyes and quivering bottom lip. The surrounding noise faded. The crowd melted into darkness. Silence reigned.

Hermione gave one more glance at Ginny's vote; she had voted for herself and Harry, of course. 'Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter' had been written neatly, with every single letter flourished with curlicues, and the 'o' of Potter crossed to make it look like a zero. Hermione was shaking in anger. And judging by the expression on Ginny's face, she knew it too.

"_You_ wrote it?" exploded Hermione. "_You_ wrote the note?"

"Ginny…" interrupted Harry, "what's going on?"

Ginny remained silent, simply staring back at Hermione's face.

"_You_ left the lipstick stain? _You_ sprayed perfume on his shirt? DID YOU _SLEEP WITH HIM_?"

The entire Hall went quiet; the music died down, and even the teachers turned in shock to stare at Hermione, bent in rage over Ginny's still form. Draco stood up cautiously, walking steadily towards Harry's table. Everyone who had been dancing was now facing it, watching.

"Hermione," urged Harry, "calm down. What are you talking about?"

Hermione ignored him, her eyes glaring fiercely at Ginny. "What did you do, Gin? Go scavenging for a stray blond hair, and then get a house elf to drop it onto his laundry?" The parchment in her hand was crushed in her fist, and her nostrils flared. "Did you leave a pair of panties in there as well?"

Most of the girls in the room automatically blushed and began to whisper amongst themselves, while the guys just looked baffled at Hermione's words. Dumbledore stood still, listening intently.

Ginny remained seated, trying not to betray any emotions. "How does it feel," she whispered, "to lose someone you love to a dirty whore?"

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed, and she breathed heavily. "Like you?" she hissed.

"No, Hermione. Like you."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Ginny stood up, coming face to face with Hermione. She appeared to be seething now as well. "How does it feel, Hermione, to have someone you love, and to watch them being stolen by another girl? What," she said, smirking at Hermione's confused face, "you think I didn't know about you and Harry?"

The entire room gasped collectively. All whispering ended.

"Gin," started Harry. "What the hell -,"

"Shut it, Harry!" shouted Ginny. "I know, all right? I know that you and Hermione have been going behind my back. I know you've probably slept with her already. I saw you two making out in front of the fireplace!"

"What?" said Hermione. "No, we never -,"

"I can't believe you, Hermione," continued Ginny. "After all the pain you put me through this past year, and after your little apology, which I knew was _fake_, by the way, you still had to go and steal Harry. I can see that you don't care about friendships at all, bitch."

"Ginny, I don't like Harry like that!"

"Don't lie."

"You've misunderstood."

"I have proof."

"We didn't make out! I kissed his cheek!"

"Sure."

"We were talking about Voldemort!"

Everybody, including Ginny and excluding Harry and Dumbledore, flinched.

"Of course you'd say that, Hermione. Just talk about the one thing Harry won't share with anyone but his Golden Trio of friends. Great way to interest him in you."

"GINNY! I. DON'T. LIKE. HARRY. LIKE. THAT!"

The Hall rang with the echoes of Hermione's words. At least now, _that_ message had been drilled clearly into everyone's heads. Ginny glared at Hermione for a long moment.

"So, Hermione, how does it feel to lose _him_? You two broke up, right?" she said, her lips curled into an evil smile.

Draco watched the two girls facing off, hoping nervously that no one would cotton on to Weaslette's words. It would be fairly simple to put two and two together, of course, but hopefully Weaslette wouldn't spill his actual name. He knew it would be hell if she did.

Hermione was shaking with red hot anger, bubbling inside of her like a volcano. One look at Ginny's triumphant face did it.

"AAHH!" yelled Ginny, as Hermione came crashing onto her, forming a noose with her hands and clenching them around Ginny's neck. The two girls tumbled to the ground, heaving in their voluminous dresses, making it difficult to manoeuvre around each other. Ginny extracted an arm from the scuffle and buried a hand in Hermione's hair, pulling roughly, making Hermione yelp in pain. Harry immediately descended on the two of them, trying to pull them apart, but Hermione had managed to repeatedly slap Ginny's face rapidly, making Ginny's eyes go cross-eyed. Draco ran towards the rolling girls and tried to grab Hermione's arm, but it was being twisted by a furious Ginny, who was being pulled by Harry. Some of the stupid guys around the Hall had clambered onto their chairs to better see the scuffle, and the teachers were rushing forwards to break apart the fight. Hermione managed to land a straight punch onto Ginny's face before Harry and Draco finally managed to tear the two girls apart.

"Miss Granger! Miss Weasley! Calm yourselves at once!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall, looking extremely displeased. The two girls were being held back by Harry and Draco, breathing heavily, their hair dishevelled, their dresses ripped, their mouths panting, their eyes glowering.

"The Christmas Ball is henceforth finished!" proclaimed Dumbledore, his voice magnified over the rising voices of the stunned crowd. "Goodnight, everyone. Please return to your dormitories immediately."

People began milling out, but Harry and Draco continued restraining Hermione and Ginny, and Ron and Bridgette were simply too shocked to move. The Flaming Bats, who had also been watching the fight, quickly began to pack up. The snow falling from the ceiling ceased. Dumbledore ambled down from the Staff table to the six of them just as the volume of the exiting crowd increased.

"Mr. Weasley and Miss Fay," he said solemnly, "please return to the Gryffindor Common Room at once."

Ron and Bridgette snapped out of it, and hurried away, but not before looking over their backs at the four remaining.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy," continued Dumbledore. "I believe it is safe for you two to both return to your respective dormitories now."

Harry let go of Ginny slowly, glanced at Hermione, and walked away from them quietly. Draco loosened his grip on Hermione and gave her arm a squeeze, following Harry out, but not before granting Ginny a deathly stare.

"Miss Weasley and Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, turning brusquely around and taking a step towards the staircases. "You may join me in my study."

The words were simple enough, but Dumbledore's tone reflected just how angry he was. Professor McGonagall followed them, her wrinkly face scrunched up into a frown. Professor Snape was looking victorious; it appeared Gryffindor was always in trouble. Hermione and Ginny followed Dumbledore silently out of the Great Hall, up the staircases, and down the corridor to the gargoyles that guarded Dumbledore's office. Professor McGonagall melted away at this point, allowing Dumbledore to mutter the password and gesture to the two girls to climb up the staircase.

Neither of them wanted to go up first, so Dumbledore stepped forward and climbed up. He quickly opened the door, crossed the length of his office, and sat down in his chair. Hermione and Ginny came up behind him and stood awkwardly in front of his desk.

"Miss Weasley and Miss Granger," he started heavily. "I cannot begin to express how displeased I am with your behaviour tonight. You have indulged in indecent comportment and have shamed each other in front of your classmates."

Hermione and Ginny hung their heads low, remaining silent.

"It is of utmost importance that students of Hogwarts maintain their composure at all times, and display good behaviour. How could two extremely bright students such as yourselves enter into such a mess?"

"I apologize, Professor Dumbledore," muttered Hermione.

"Do not apologize to me, Miss Granger, but to your fellow Gryffindor, whom I am sure is also just as sorry."

Ginny looked cornered, but she turned halfway toward Hermione and looked at the floor as she said, "I'm sorry."

Dumbledore looked slightly less displeased. His cool blue eyes examined Ginny for a long moment, as if reading her. He was silent for a long while, and then crossed his fingers upon his desk. "Miss Weasley, I would like you to go to the Hospital Wing."

Ginny looked up, confused.

"Go to the Hospital Wing, and talk to Madam Pomfrey."

"But Professor Dumbledore…" she muttered, "why?"

"You will find out," said Dumbledore quietly, his eyes twinkling. Ginny got up, still puzzled, and walked out quietly behind them.

There was a long pause in which neither Dumbledore nor Hermione said a word.

"And now, Miss Granger," he started, sighing heavily, "I must speak to you."

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**A/N:** dun dun dun! please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

_**~Veralena**_


	30. Chapter 29

**A/N:** Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I very much appreciate those who take the time to write reviews, as I do read all of them, and it keeps me writing. Some news: I know where I'm heading with the story (long-term) now, and it's going to get good, I promise. This chapter is an informational chapter, as I expect the next one will be as well. Lots of explaining to do, you see.

Enjoy!

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Chapter 29**

"Please take a seat, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, gesturing to the seat in front of his table. Hermione gulped uneasily, sitting down on the red padded chair. She didn't like Dumbledore's reprimanding tone, not one bit. She wasn't used to being reprimanded, period.

Dumbledore raised both his arms onto his desk, letting his fingertips lightly touch in front of his piercing eyes. She examined Hermione for a long moment, as if observing a curious little trinket.

"Frankly, Miss Granger, I am most amazed at your violent behaviour tonight," he started, and the words sounded harsh in Hermione's opinion. "You should not have raised your hand against Miss Weasley, no matter the words she used in provocation."

"I know, Professor Dumbledore."

"You must learn to control your emotions, Miss Granger. I am highly displeased that a model student, and a Head Girl, would have resorted to violence to deal with such a situation."

Hermione couldn't look him in the eyes anymore, so she stared at the ground near her feet, clasping and wringing her hands tightly. Dumbledore was speaking incessantly, but he didn't seem to be angry at her anymore. No…he seemed to be waiting for her to burst out screaming, telling him to stop. Perhaps he was testing her. Hermione, not a hothead like Harry, kept her mouth firmly shut.

Dumbledore's eyes contracted, like one's would when they were smiling. "Is there something you would like to tell me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked back up at him quickly, her heart suddenly pounding. It took her a few moments to single out the few possibilities Dumbledore could be talking about. He seemed calm enough, but with Dumbledore, one could never tell. Hermione thought it over: was it her forbidden relationship with Draco? Was Dumbledore suspecting her of actually having a relationship with Harry? Maybe he had believed Ginny's words. Or maybe it was –

No. It couldn't be. No one knew. No one could ever know.

Dumbledore watched as Hermione's face went through several emotions. She was sure he was going to use Occlumency to get it out of her. Then again, Dumbledore was not like that. Surely, he would not…

"No, Professor," she said innocently. "There's nothing I must tell you."

Dumbledore was silent again, and his head did the tiniest shake, as if disappointed in her.

"Are you quite sure, Miss Granger?" he asked slowly. Hermione looked back into his piercing eyes that she was quite sure were reading her mind. She couldn't help her hands from shaking, or her heart from clenching tightly in her chest; the panicky feeling whenever she got into trouble, which was rare. This time, however, the feeling was amplified tenfold. She felt cornered, like there was no escape; she knew the truth would come out somehow. The dark secret that she kept within her, that mortified her, that kept her awake at night…that threatened at every moment to take away all that she had worked for this year. Nothing was certain with this kind of magic, she knew that much. And certainly Dumbledore would know as well. She had lived every day these past few months with worry etched on her sleeping face at night, agonizing over the circumstances, distressed about her precarious situation. As she stared into Dumbledore's face, she was certain that he knew. Why else would he persist in asking if she had anything to tell him? She made her decision. She needed to confide in someone, even if that someone was Dumbledore. She wanted questions answered, she wanted reassurance that everything would work out fine, that she would be able to go on living her life normally from now on. Taking a deep breath, she looked at Dumbledore and opened her mouth, when –

There was a rushing sound coming from the corner of Dumbledore's office. Both he and Hermione turned around to the source of it, listening to the rushing sound getting louder and louder. It was not the sound of rushing water, but it was the resonating rush of millions and billions of crystals gathering together quickly in one spot. As the sound grew, so did the image. Hermione's eyes rounded as she watched little white speckles appear in midair and rush towards a tall line of crystals, assembling rapidly into a larger entity. The sound was now so loud that the little instruments on Dumbledore's shelves whirred like mad; the light from the crystal form was so bright that Hermione had to squint her eyes. Finally, the sound started to dull, the white speckles all merged together, the light faded. And then the sound ceased, and colours appeared on the form, and there, in Dumbledore's office, stood Draco.

Hermione's jaw dropped and her eyebrows furrowed. She looked closer at the ethereal image of Draco, examining it carefully. It was him, but it wasn't. He looked older, much older, perhaps forty. His pale hair had almost unnoticeable streaks of gray, and his face had crinkles near his eyes. But he was wearing reading glasses, and a white dress shirt, and black slacks, with a worried expression on his face. He looked tense, and became particularly alarmed when he saw Hermione sitting there.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, his voice seemingly deeper. Dumbledore watched the scene curiously, with a knowing sparkle in his eyes. Hermione simply stared at the older Draco.

"Hermione!" he repeated. He held up his hand, and Hermione now noticed that he was holding a framed picture. Draco pointed at it. "Why aren't you in it, Hermione?" he asked. She got up from her chair slowly and inched closer to the crystallized image of Draco; she needed to get a better look at what he was pointing to. Once she got close enough to be in the circumference of his halo, she saw that Draco was in fact indicating a graduation picture. The photograph showed the graduating class of Hermione's current year, all standing in the Great Hall, looking deliriously happy. Draco's finger was pointing to the empty space between a smiling Harry and Ron.

"Why aren't you there, Hermione?" he asked again, looking confused. Already, his image was starting to flicker, dimly at first, then more and more frequently. Hermione took a step back, watching Draco's slightly confused face glimmer. The billions of crystals were breaking apart from the form they had held for a few minutes, disappearing into thin air. The rushing sound grew louder again, and a sweeping wind brushed away at the image until Draco's legs, arms, torso and finally his head disappeared. The last few specks swirled in a vaccum around the pillar of crystals until they too, vanished. The office grew quiet.

Hermione stood stock still. She didn't dare move. She was too afraid to start thinking about what she had just seen and heard. She was too frightened to turn around and face Dumbledore. So she stood there, lost in shock.

"Miss Granger," came Dumbledore's voice, snapping her out of her shocked daze. She turned around slowly and faced Dumbledore's old, lined face.

"Please sit, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, looking calm as always but very serious.

Hermione sat down, her eyes round, her heart pounding, her brain muddled.

"Could you please explain, Miss Granger, what we just witnessed?"

Hermione shook her head.

"You do not know the reason why Mr. Malfoy appeared in my office?"

She shook her head again.

"You cannot explain why Mr. Malfoy appeared to be nearly twenty years older than he currently is?"

She simply stared back at him.

"And you have no inkling as to why he wished to know the reason for your absence in the graduation photograph?"

Hermione looked down, then shook her head.

"We can therefore conclude, Miss Granger, that you have turned back time."

Hermione snapped her head up to look at Dumbledore's face, uncertain if the colour of her face was red or purple. Her heart shuddered, her palms were becoming rapidly sweaty, her knees trembled. It was out. The secret that she had harboured for so long was finally out, and in a fashion that she had never imagined.

"Professor," she started, "I…I…"she took a deep breath, "I…confess that I _did_… turn back time."

He folded his hands again and let his piercing eyes examine her again. "I see," he muttered.

"I confess, Professor, that it wasn't a mistake, and that I did it for selfish reasons. I did it…to save myself."

"And how is that, Miss Granger?"

Hermione blushed, unsure of what to reply. "I…um…had a hard time in my seventh year. It was terrible…it left me without anyone or anything worthwhile. I couldn't help but have a sense of regret that I didn't at least try to make my final year at Hogwarts memorable. So I…um…"

"Used a Time Turner?" finished Dumbledore. He was neither smiling nor frowning. "I understand, Miss Granger," he said after a very long pause. "Everyone desires a second chance at life, and here you are, living it. I myself have often dreamed of fixing those mistakes, of trying harder, of picking the right choice. So you see, I understand your motivation. However, Miss Granger, second chances are not the way of the world. It is not natural and is unfair to others. You may change the past, but the past has a way of catching up to you."

Hermione took another deep breath. She was forcing her brain to soak in Dumbledore's every word.

"Professor," she started nervously, "why was it that Draco came back from the future, and not someone else?"

Dumbledore was silent for a long while, and even for a moment, unsure. Hermione didn't think she'd ever seen him look this way. She wondered what he was thinking.

"Perhaps, Miss Granger, you underestimated yourself. Perhaps the original Hermione was just as desirable in her old state, so that if you had lived your life normally, Mr. Malfoy would still have fallen for you."

She blushed deep, deep red and looked away, unable to look Dumbledore in the eye. She should have known that Dumbledore would know somehow, he was practically omniscient. Her hands were twisting in her lap, and she kept uncrossing and crossing her ankles.

"You think I did not know?" he asked, his eyes glinting. "Believe me, Miss Granger, I knew something would happen the moment I made you two Head Boy and Head Girl. Sharing a common room may have such side effects, no?"

He seemed to be smiling at her, so she gave a quick grin back at him, then looked shyly down at her lap again.

"So…"she started, "you're saying that Draco would have, er, liked me, without my interference?"

"Precisely."

Hermione felt her heart beat out an irregular pattern. Draco would have loved her anyway. _Draco will love me. In the future_. She started smiling, radiating happiness, and then remembered the dark speck in her web of sunshine.

"Professor," she said, "I have a confession to make."

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I, um, vanished the old Hermione."

Dumbledore was quiet for a long moment, his eyes rounded. He seemed, at last, slightly surprised.

"I am very disappointed in you, Miss Granger. I would have thought that you of all would know never to meddle with time. You have bent the laws of time and magic, and you have broken a rule: to never interfere with the past. I hope you realise that since you have vanished the old Hermione, your existence from this point onwards does not exist."

"WHAT?" Her heart stopped. She could not have heard right.

"As of this very moment, if one were to travel forward in time, they would not find you anywhere on the planet. To say it as you youngsters would, you would be, ah, wiped off the face of the earth."

Hermione, through her shock, managed to suppress a grin at Dumbledore's face as he said the words. But she was back to panic again.

"But I'm alive."

"Yes, you are. But you must now live out your life fully and normally. "

"I don't understand."

"Because it is now December, and not yet June, Hermione Granger never graduated. Mr. Malfoy, in the future, must have seen the graduation photograph, and noticed that you were not in the picture. This is because you were not present at the time the photograph was taken."

"But I will be."

"Certainly, in five months, you shall be seen in the photograph, should no harm befall you. But, as of now, if one were to travel ahead in the future, Hermione Granger would be completely and officially dead."

Hermione exhaled. "Dead?"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Yes, Miss Granger. Dead."

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**A/N:** please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

**_~Veralena_**


	31. Chapter 30

**A/N**: thanks again for the great reviews! if any of you are still confused after this chapter, please don't hesitate to send me a message, and i'll try to clear up that confusion as soon as I can. I know the whole time-turning thing can be a bit hard to catch up to, considering there's so many little details that matter. anyway, enjoy the chapter! there's a nice little present at the end.

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**Chapter 30**

Hermione breathed in, trying to calm herself.

"But, I won't _die_, right, Professor?" she asked nervously.

Dumbledore cocked his head to the side. "As long as you remain safe and do not _allow_ yourself to die."

Sounded easy enough. Hermione stopped holding her breath and exhaled, letting the twisting of her hands cease. Through the onslaught of information she was getting, she procured more questions.

"How did Draco come back?" she asked. "He hasn't aged yet, he's somewhere in the castle, still seventeen."

Dumbledore sighed, withdrawing his wand from his pocket and twirling it in his hand. He leaned back in his chair and started stroking his long, silvery beard absently. "You see, Miss Granger…Time is a curious thing. I myself have been trying to unravel its mysteries my entire life. Time is continuous. Life goes on simultaneously on different levels. If you were to travel forty years ahead, everyone's existence here would continue to live on normally. We would not disintegrate or age simply because you travelled forward. Similarly, what you would see in forty years would be life being led normally, your friends now old, as well as yourself, and yet you – young. The two time periods are being lived simultaneously. You simply have to travel between them."

"So, are you saying that Draco travelled back in time?"

"Is it not evident for someone as intelligent as you, Miss Granger?" asked Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye. Hermione tried to suppress a grin.

"Yes, Miss Granger, I do believe that Mr. Malfoy travelled back in time. I also say that you meddled with your very existence, so that if one were to travel twenty years ahead at this very moment, there would be no human under the name of Hermione Granger. However, since no one that we know of is undergoing such misdemeanours, I would say that Mr. Malfoy would have a certain reason for returning."

"Which is?"

"That, I cannot say, unless I decided to visit the future."

Dumbledore was silent. He appeared to be waiting for Hermione to say something, but she had so many questions running through her head she couldn't pick one. After a very long pause, she finally started again.

"Professor…there was one thing…that I've been wondering about. Ever since I turned back time, things haven't been going so…well."

"What do you mean, Miss Granger?"

Hermione sighed, recalling those miserable days when she felt like it was all in vain. "I mean…well, I feel like things haven't really been going good. Ginny was angry at me for a few months, and then all…this happened," she gave Dumbledore an apologetic smile. "Problems with me and, uh…him. Problems with Ron, problems with my housemates, problems with the entire school, for that matter. This year has been different, and good on many accounts, but there's been such a high price to pay!"

Dumbledore listened intently to Hermione's words. "Well, you see, Miss Granger, perhaps this is Time's way of telling you that this was a mistake. Do you recall in your Third Year, when I strongly insisted on '_not being seen_'? Well, that is not the only precaution against time-travelling. There are always consequences to changing destiny. Imagine Time as a line, Miss Granger. Prior to your, ah, decision, your timeline had been leading a straight line. As soon as you went back, you created a loop in the line, essentially creating two Hermiones with two lives. Now, you vanished the other Hermione, the original one, the one that had been in a straight line. The straight line was destroyed, and only one side of the loop remained. This loop was placed onto the line, but it did not join correctly. There are now wrinkles in this line, Miss Granger, your own timeline. Imagine your troubles as these wrinkles that Time is trying to flatten out. They were not supposed to be there, but were placed there forcefully. At the moment when you reach the point in which the old, original line starts again, these problems will cease. Your wrinkled loop will have run its course. You shall be back on track."

"But I thought you said my future is erased?"

"Certainly, it is, but the track on which this line exists, or does not, is still quite present."

Hermione's eyes widened. All this was very abstract, and she wasn't sure if it made total sense. There was just one last worry etched on her face.

"So, Professor…what do I do now?"

Dumbledore sighed. "For now, Miss Granger, I would suggest you continue to live out your life. Do well in your classes, let your friendships flourish, and stay safe. There may be more problems to come, but you must unfortunately deal with them. After graduation, return to the point at which you turned back time. Be it your house, Hogwarts or Diagon Alley, you _must_ return. But remember,_ you must not be seen_."

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.

.

Hermione trudged up the stairs. It was late, very late, and she was exhausted after the dance and talking to Dumbledore. Her brain was lagging under the stress of the night, the discovery of Malfoy, no, _Draco_'s faithfulness, and the information she had learned about time-travelling. Ginny's betrayal, the humiliation in front of the whole school, seeing the future Draco…it all seemed so surreal that she was having a hard time taking in the events of the night. How could so much change in so little time?

Then she remembered her vision before the Christmas Ball. How she had fainted and seen the old Hermione. _Tonight, _she had said_. Tonight you will realise; _yes, she had realised the severity of the consequences for turning back time. _Tonight you will understand; she _had finally unearthed the source of Draco's betrayal, which hadn't been a betrayal at all, but Ginny's doing._ Tonight you will regret; _Dumbledore's stern voice came back ringing in her ears, making her feel terrible for trying to change her destiny.

Had she seen the future? The old Hermione had returned to her brain to forewarn her of the events of this night. Hermione, through her fazed brain, remembered how much she used to mock Professor Trelawny for her divination skills. Maybe Hermione was becoming a Seer as well?

She shuddered, shaking her head and walking along the deserted hallways. If she was anything, she was not a believer in Trelawny's crazy sayings. The Inner Eye. Oh dear Merlin.

When she finally got to her Common Room, she noticed that Draco's door was open. His room was dark, and she could see his outline on his bed, his chest rising and falling gently. Had he kept the door open for her? Had he forgiven her so easily? Remorse filled her entire being as she thought of how she had put him through so much pain, how she hadn't believed him, how she hadn't trusted him. He was willing to forgive and forget, after all that she'd done. Her eyes started getting watery, not just from seeing Draco's open door, but from everything she had gone through tonight. Her dress was starting to itch, and there was a tear at the bottom from her fight with Ginny. Her makeup was faded and her hair was a mess. Feeling more than worn out, she tiptoed into Draco's room.

It was dark. Draco had left the curtains open, allowing a thin stream of moonlight to brighten the face of the grandfather clock, indicating it was past three in the morning. Hermione watched Draco inhale and exhale peacefully, feeling unsure if she was really welcome in his bed or not. She took a step forward and the floors creaked. Mentally cursing, she bit her lip and stood perfectly still to see if he'd woken up; he was a light sleeper after all. Sure enough, his form began to move, and he turned on his side to face her.

She could see the whites of his eyes watching her, but he said nothing, and neither did she. He simply stared at her as she stood on the empty side of the bed, and she felt her heart thumping, waiting for his permission. It was pindrop silence in the room. All he could see was her waiting silhouette. All he could hear was her breathing, and his own.

He watched as she reached behind her back and unzipped her dress, sliding it off her body. The moonlight glistened on her smooth skin, highlighting her curves and throwing the crevices of her features into shadow. She reached up and unpinned her hair, letting it fall loose. In her bra and panties, she slid into bed next to him.

Not a word was said, but the unspoken forgiveness surrounded them in the still of the night. He draped an arm over her waist and pulled her tight against him, letting her cry herself to sleep.

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.

.

Hermione blinked her eyes. There was light, but one look at the window indicated a gloomy morning. She was a weather person, so the grey clouds made her slightly depressed. Then she saw the green walls, the emerald sheets, and Draco's silvery eyes looking down at her.

The world became a happy place again.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," he replied, smiling.

The familiarity of his voice, of his warmth close to her own, of his pale glistening skin, of this bed, these sheets, the situation…it was enough to make her close her eyes and savour this moment. A sweet reunion, a beautiful welcoming.

The silky sheets were lying low on his hips, revealing his hard body; his abs so defined it hurt Hermione to look at them. She looked up at his long, thin face, those pale pink lips that held his signature smirk, the chiselled line of his nose, the narrow sterling eyes that glinted back at her, the snowy pale hair that fell across those eyes. Being submerged in icy waters for so long, it was a breath of fresh air to see him again.

His eyes roved her body and her face hungrily, as if he hadn't seen her in eons. He eyed the soft skin of her hips and her waist, at the way her breasts spilled out of her bra, craving for his touch, at the sensitive spots of her neck, to the lustrous way her caramel hair shone, to her coral lips and her cute little nose, to the tiny black dot on her left cheek and her sunset eyes, her long lashes and her defined eyebrows. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed her. It felt odd to think these thoughts, but he couldn't help himself.

She raised her head on an arm, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry," she started, her eyebrows coming together at the center. "I'm sorry for everything I said, for ever doubting you. I should have believed you. I was being stupid. I should have listened to you."

He placed a hand on her arm. "Don't worry about it. Really. It was all Weaslette's fault." His nose crinkled in disgust at the name, and she could see the hate radiate from the mere mention of it. "She was a bitch for breaking us up."

"She was a cow," admitted Hermione, but her anger had dissipated since last night. "You shouldn't do anything though."

"What do you mean? I'm not going to let that blood traitor go just like that. She's going to have to pay…" he snarled.

Hermione shook her head. "First of all, don't call her a blood traitor. Second, just let it go. The past is the past. You can't change it." Even as she said the words, her conversation with Dumbledore last night came pouring into her mind, making her gulp nervously.

Draco sighed, then pulled her in towards his body. She snuggled close to him willingly, weaving an arm around his waist. "I missed you so much," she murmured.

He kissed the top of her head. "Yeah, believe me, it wasn't fun not having you around."

"But I _was _around!"

"Not like this," he answered, the smirk apparent in his voice as he started tickling her sides. She giggled uncontrollably, a girlish habit she had never seemed to fix, tossing and turning on the sheets as Draco laughed at her, attacking her stomach. When he finally let go, she slapped his arm.

"Thanks," she groaned, lying limp. "First thing in the morning…"

The corners of his lips went upwards. He leaned in, towering on top of her, his form darkening everything around them except for themselves. Hermione's eyes rounded, and her mouth opened without her accord. He came so close to her that her eyes went blurry; she closed them and inhaled his musky scent, felt his warm breath against her face, touched his rough, stubbly cheek. She wanted to reach up and devour his lips right away, but he seemed intent on teasing her ruthlessly. She hooked an arm onto his back and tried pulling his body closer to her, but he would not budge. He seemed to be smelling her, sniffing at her hair, at her cheeks, at her neck; like an animal would. Having him in such close proximity made her body feel hot and fiery; she could sense the bundle of nerves at the apex of her legs twitch in anticipation. Her nipples hardened, her pulse raced, and still he would not kiss her.

He himself was fighting all temptation. He kept his eyes open, watching her as a predator would, with narrowed eyes. Her own were closed, and she was breathing heavily and rapidly, waiting for him. Her cheeks had turned pink, and he smirked at the effect he was having on her. He could feel the lower part of his body harden at the mere sight of her bra straining from the pressure her nipples were causing, and he wanted to bury himself right there, right now, into her deep warmth, those welcoming wet walls. He wanted to hear her scream his name in ecstasy, to have her bury her fingers in his hair and to feel her nails scrape against his back. As he watched her mouth open slightly, he finally leaned in and closed the distance between them.

The kiss was fiery, intense, fervid, and completely dirty. The most unchaste kiss there could ever be. Their tongues lashed at each other, moving rapidly, feeling the other, sucking at each other's lips, their arms thrown around each other's bodies, their groins grinding together in hot-blooded passion. He ravished her mouth as if they were fucking with their tongues, his body crushing her breasts under his weight, his length rubbing along her wet panties. Hermione moaned from the sheer pleasure of this mind-blowing kiss, letting her senses run wild.

After a long moment, he withdrew from her, leaving her scorching hot and red. They both breathed loudly and unevenly. Draco lay against the pillows, an arm cast out under Hermione's neck. The room was filled with the sounds of their heaving lungs.

"Nice to have you back, Granger," he gasped.

Hermione looked up at the ceiling, her mouth sucking in gulps of air. "Thanks Malfoy."

* * *

**A/N:** yay! their finally back together! Please remember to **REVIEW **if you want an update!

**_~Veralena_**


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